Not a Bad Thing
by LemonStar
Summary: ..Daryl/Beth.. AU - no zombies. He smoked and rode a motorcycle and spoke as if he chewed on gravel. He was everything none of her ex-boyfriends – all two of them – had ever been and Beth knew she probably wasn't the only woman in this bar with a crush on the surly, handsome bartender.
1. Chapter 1

**This story has been in my head for the past couple of weeks and I finally was able to sit down and get the first chapter out of me. I'm attempting at writing different versions of Beth and Daryl and this chapter will be Beth's POV and the next will be Daryl's. I promise not to add any southern pride into this story. Thank you in advance!**

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…

She loved her sister and had always considered Maggie to be one of her best friends.

But Beth Greene also hated her sister. So much. Especially when Maggie got into these moods and pulled Beth from the office – even if Beth was right in the middle of research – and would declare that Beth needed to have some fun while dragging her off to the bar.

Beth hated when Maggie got into these moods because there was just no stopping her. It didn't matter to Maggie if Beth had never – _ever_ – had fun at the bar when Maggie dragged her. It didn't matter to Maggie that Beth just wound up sitting at the bar, drinking Shirley Temples and continuing her research on her laptop while Maggie flirted with all of the men, who seemed to flock to her. Men had always liked Maggie more of the two sisters anyway.

Even when Beth pointed these things out to her though, Maggie either didn't seem to hear her or she didn't seem to care. Knowing Maggie, it was the latter.

Tonight, it was no different. Most in the office had gone home for the day and only a few still remained, staring at their laptop screens or hunched over files on their desks, making notes and preparing themselves for whatever cases had been dropped in front of them for the week. There were file folders all over as well as stacks of file boxes. Beth's cramped little cubicle had four boxes in it alone and stacks of folders on every available inch of desk space and Andrea, her boss, always wondered how Beth was able to find anything, but Beth insisted that there was a system; one that only she knew the key to.

It was practically silent in the offices of Harris & Monroe Law Offices except for the occasional sneeze or cough or turning of a book page or whirring of the printer, so when the elevator doors dinged open, announcing the arrival of someone, Beth could hear it. And there was something on the back of her neck that let her know that it was for her.

And sure enough, a few moments later, Maggie poked her head around the corner of Beth's cubicle, grinning the instant Beth lifted her eyes and met hers.

"Hey," Maggie stepped into the cramped space and picking up one of the boxes, she set it down on the floor so she could sit down in the one chair across from Beth's desk. "What are you still doing here?"

"Research," Beth answered and that was all she said because she had learned that if she talked too much "law talk" around her sister, Maggie's eyes tended to glaze over. "What are _you_ doing here?" She asked though she already knew what Maggie was going to say.

Maggie hadn't dragged her to the bar in a couple of weeks and Beth supposed it was time. Maggie always liked to remind Beth that Beth was, in fact, younger than her and should _want_ to leave work and go act like a drunken idiot in public. Beth wished she was able to remind her sister that she had always acted like the older sister, but Beth knew it would just be one of those things that Maggie waved her hand off, choosing to not admit it.

Maggie had a terrible habit of seeing only what she wanted to see.

At Beth's question now, Maggie simply smiled at her and Beth did her best to not sigh.

She loved her sister. She loved her sister. She loved her sister.

She repeated this to herself over and over again and said nothing out loud as she slowly sat back and closed her laptop, reaching for the computer bag beneath her desk.

…

The Pine Cone wasn't the nicest bar in town, but it wasn't the dirtiest either. It was comfortably in the middle and Beth supposed that she and her sister could be considered regulars. Maggie more than Beth, but the town was so used to clumping the Greene sisters into the same pile with everything else so this was no different. If Maggie was a regular at The Pine Cone, then so was Beth.

It was a Wednesday night, but the bar was still crowded – mainly for the bar's special it ran every Wednesday night of two dollar drafts.

As soon as she entered, Beth didn't care about following after Maggie. With her computer bag slung onto her shoulder, Beth made her way through the bodies to get to the bar. She usually always sat on the very end, next to the wall, and despite the noise, she was always able to get some amount of work done; until Maggie found her again and declared that she was ready to go home and Beth had spent enough time out; like she was some hunchback from the attic that was granted freedom every few days for a set amount of hours.

Tonight though, as she neared the bar, Beth frowned. Someone was sitting in her seat. A couple, the man leaning so close into the woman, he was practically sitting on the same stool as her, and the woman was laughing as if the man was telling her the greatest joke.

Beth felt a stab of envy at their closeness and affection for a brief moment before it was replaced with impatience. Maybe she could sneak out without Maggie seeing and finish her research in her car. At least it would be much quieter in the car than it was in here tonight.

"Get up."

Beth saw the gruff usual Pine Cone bartender speak to the couple and as she looked at Daryl Dixon, she felt her stomach give a quick flip as it usually always did when she went days without seeing him. She always nearly forgot about him in between the times she wasn't here. She didn't see him anywhere else except here at the bar and she was always so busy at work, every day, she had little time to think about anything except work.

So weeks would pass and then Maggie would drag her back to The Pine Cone again and Beth would get a look at Daryl Dixon all over again and all of a sudden, she would remember just how good looking that man was.

She didn't stand a chance with him, of course.

He was older, for one thing – not that age mattered that much to Beth. Her parents were perfectly happy with more than twenty years separating them. But she had a feeling that her being younger would bother Daryl more than anything. He was older and gruff with longish dark hair that covered his ears and a built body that the green tee-shirt of the bar with a pine cone printed on the front pocket hugged quite nicely. He smoked and rode a motorcycle and spoke as if he chewed on gravel. He was everything none of her ex-boyfriends – all two of them – had ever been and Beth knew she probably wasn't the only woman in this bar with a crush on the surly, handsome bartender.

The only way she even knew his full name was because Maggie had gotten drunk enough one night to ask him for it.

"Excuse me?" The man asked, looking to Daryl with a raised eyebrow.

"You're in a reserved seat and she jus' showed up so get up," Daryl said and he wasn't exactly giving the man an order, but he wasn't exactly giving the man an option either.

Beth felt the back of her neck flush as the man turned and caught sight of Beth standing there in her heels and reserved dress with her computer bag and he probably thought she was a kid playing dress-up. Despite having gone to law school just like all of her other colleagues, Beth was the youngest in the office and knew they would always see her as such. She had always looked younger than she actually was, which Maggie and her mom both said would be considered a blessing when she was older, but Beth didn't know if she actually believed that.

She expected the man to argue, but instead – and Beth figured it was probably because of Daryl's dark eyes staring him down – the man took the woman's hand and they slid off the stools without argument and walked away.

By the time Beth sat down on her usual stool with her bag on the stool next to her, Daryl was coming back and setting a Shirley Temple with five maraschino cherries in front of her.

"Thank you," she gave him a small smile, both for the drink and getting her the stool back.

Daryl just gave her a head nod. "Lemme know when you need another one," he said and then he walked away, off to help other patrons.

Beth watched him walk away for a moment before she shook her head at herself and set her laptop up, ready to get back to work.

…

It got quieter as the night went on, but Beth hardly noticed. She was always able to work on her research no matter how loud the bar was. It was a skill she was grateful to have; one she had honed in college while the dorm on weekends had been bursting with noise and music and Beth had stayed in her room to study.

She had another Shirley Temple sometime and she hadn't even asked for it. As soon as she finished one, Daryl was placing a fresh one down on a fresh coaster. She smiled up at him and she expected him to walk away like he always did, but this time, he lingered a moment.

"Wha' is it tonight?" He asked, tilting his head towards her laptop.

"Libel cases against newspapers in the State of Georgia in the past ten years," she answered with a smile and she felt shy all of a sudden. She and Daryl had never really spoken before except for him to learn what she preferred to drink. He didn't even know what she did for a living except that whatever it was, it was something she was able to work on while at a bar, of all places.

"Sounds fun," he said with a completely straight face and it made her laugh a little.

She shrugged a shoulder, picking up the plastic spear of cherries from the glass. "Better than when I had to study and memorize the Atlanta School District dress code manual."

Beth could have sworn that she nearly got Daryl Dixon to smile at that one.

"Lemme know when you need another one," was all he said before he walked away again.

This time, Beth forced her eyes to stay on her screen so she didn't watch him and she tried not to imagine what Maggie would do to get the attention of a man she had a crush on. Maggie had always been the more outgoing of the two sisters – yet another difference between the two in a seemingly endless list.

She didn't know if it ever bothered Maggie, but Hershel had always called Beth his "good" daughter. She was polite and proper and she always came home long before curfew and she never snuck out her bedroom window. She never got caught up in the hayloft in the barn with a boy and she had never been brought home with a Sheriff's hand on her shoulder for playing mailbox baseball.

Maggie was wild. She always had been. But she always said that she only had one life and she was going to live it, damn it. Beth had always been perfectly happy with the way her life was – quiet and calm and each day, she woke up and went to work, doing a job she truly loved, before going home for a quiet evening and then doing it all again the next day. She knew Maggie thought her life was as dull as grass growing, but Beth didn't care because it was her life and she had worked hard for it and she loved it.

But sometimes, on the nights she was dragged into The Pine Cone, Beth would watch Daryl without making it too obvious at all that that was what she was doing, and she found herself wishing she was just a tiny bit more like Maggie.

…

The clock in the top right corner of the screen told Beth that it was ten-thirty and she was absolutely exhausted. She saw Maggie coming back towards her and she could not help but sigh with relief before a yawn escaped her and she began shutting down her computer.

"Ready to go?" Maggie asked.

Beth was ready to go before they even got out of the car in the parking lot hours earlier.

She didn't answer. She just nodded and carefully slipped down from the stool, slipping her laptop back into her bag and leaving a ten dollar bill on the bar for her two Shirley Temples and a generous tip. Daryl was at the other end of the bar, filling shot glasses for a group of what looked to be college-aged kids. For a moment, Beth wished that he would look over so he could see that she was leaving, but then she practically shook her head at herself. What did it matter if he saw her leaving or not? He was working and all she had were two kiddie cocktails the entire time she was there.

Hardly the most important customer he had that night.

Shouldering her bag, she followed Maggie from the bar without looking back, grateful to be leaving and pleased with the thought that she was only twenty minutes away from slipping into her bed and going to sleep.

…

Even though she graduated from law school with loans to pay back – as most students – Beth had a small inheritance she had received from her grandmother upon her passing and she had kept it in the bank, letting it collect interest over the years and with help from her parents, she was able to purchase a house. Nothing fancy. Just a small white house with a dark blue door and a brick porch built away from anything, down a dirt road. It was her dream house before Beth even realized that she had ever had a dream house.

After dropping Maggie off at her house – her sister too tipsy to drive herself – Beth went home, sighing with relief as she drove down the dirt road, the headlights sweeping across the front of her house as she parked beside it. Beth collected her things and stepped from the car into the pitch black of the night. She locked her car and then stood there for a moment, basking in the silence. Absolute silence and the only lights were from the stars in the black-ink sky that night.

It was one of the reasons why she moved out here. Maggie had been slightly disgusted and slightly confused when Beth brought her parents and Maggie over as Beth proudly pulled the "SOLD" sign from the front yard.

"What's around here?" Maggie asked with a frown, looking around at the woods and fields and the blue sky that stretched overhead with no interruption for miles.

And Beth had answered with a smile. "Nothing."

It wasn't as if Beth didn't like being around people. She had always been something of a social butterfly. In high school, she had been a member of the choir and drama club and had been voted "Biggest Sweetheart" by her senior class. She had always had friends and liked spending all of her time with them.

But then something had happened in college. She didn't know what. She lost herself in studying and learning and nothing else mattered to her except earning her degree and graduating. She knew it bothered Maggie. She had called Beth anti-social more than once, but Beth didn't let it bother her. She had studied hard to get where she was now and now, she worked hard to stay there. She had friends – and maybe she was wrong about it – but friends were no longer the most important thing in her life. Or romantic relationships, for that matter. Maggie just _loved_ pointed that out to her.

She had a small flashlight on her key chain – she kept meaning to get solar path lights so she would have at least a little light when she got home – and she lit it now as she walked up the porch and unlocked her front door. She turned the light on the table next to the door and then closed and locked the door behind her. The house was small – downright tiny – but Beth admitted that she loved it for that reason. She was just one person, starting out on her own in the world. Why did she need a lot of space?

There was the large front room which was both the living room and kitchen combined. And then there was her bedroom and a small bathroom. There was a screened-in sun porch in the back where she liked to sit in the evenings – when she got home at a decent hour – and watch the sun set below the fields as she read and a basement where her washer and dryer were. Everything was perfect about her house and who could blame her for wanting to be here if she wasn't at the office?

Within ten minutes, Beth was right where she wanted to be. In her pajamas, tucked between the cool sheets of her bed and within another five, she was fast asleep.

…

Aiden Monroe liked Beth and she knew it.

Not like a man liked a woman, but how a boss liked an employee. He preferred her working on his cases with him more than any of the other paralegals; if Andrea didn't take her for herself, because his law partner, Andrea Harris, held the same opinion.

Aiden grabbed her first though for his next case and he stopped by Beth's cubicle at noon.

He smiled at her as she sat at her desk, completely lost in the print outs she was reading and highlighting. He knocked on the cubicle wall, startling her, making her visibly jump.

"Sorry," he gave her a smile. "Wanna get something to eat?" He asked.

"Yes," she breathed with relief and he kept smiling as she stood up, grabbing the papers and file folder, hugging it to her chest and giving Aiden a smile as he stepped aside so she could walk out first and they the stairs rather than the elevator.

There was a food truck always parked outside the office building where Harris & Monroe was and Aiden and Beth stood in line, waiting their turn to order.

"So? Lay it on me," Aiden said.

"Alright." Beth took a deep breath before she began. "Georgia Code 51-5-1 states a) libel is a false and malicious defamation of another, expressed in print, writing, pictures or signs, tending to injure the reputation of the person and exposing him to public hatred, contempt or ridicule. B) publication is necessary to recover damages for libel in Georgia."

"I remember that from the exam," he threw her a grin and she rolled her eyes. "What else?"

"Georgia code 51-5-4 states: slander or oral defamation consists in uttering disparaging words productive of special damages which flows naturally therefrom and making charges against another in reference to his trade, office or profession, which is calculated to injure him therin."

"What else?" Aiden asked once more.

Beth knew he knew all of this already, but one of the reasons both Aiden and Andrea liked her so much was because she was thorough in her research.

They reached the truck and the owner, T-Dog, gave them a grin, knowing them well.

"What can I get you two today?" He asked.

"Jerk chicken sliders with the pineapple slaw for me, T," Aiden ordered, reaching into his suit pocket for his wallet. "What'll you have?" He asked, looking to Beth.

"Fish tacos for me, please, T," Beth smiled up at him.

"You two got it," T-Dog smiled before turning. Aiden knew how much the total would be without him having to be told and he slipped the twenty on the counter just as T-Dog turned and handed him two glass bottles of Coke.

Beth and Aiden stepped aside so the next people in line could order.

"What else?" Aiden asked again before taking a sip of Coke.

"Because Mr. Blake is a public figure, we have to prove actual malice where if he was a private person, we would only have to prove negligence," Beth said.

Aiden nodded. "I've been thinking of how we are going to do that."

Beth knew what he was going to say before he said it because she had thought of it, too. It was actually a reason she had never actually wanted to become fully qualified as a lawyer. She loved the law and that they lived in a country ruled by law and order; where the laws were clear and known to almost all. But sometimes, the way the law had to be practiced, that was what Beth didn't necessarily like and didn't know if she could actually do it herself. Aiden and Andrea and others were immune to it – what they had to do sometimes to win – and the typical lawyers jokes told about them about lawyers not having souls.

Beth liked her research. She didn't have to do anything when it came to researching because the facts in her books never twisted or changed.

"We have to prove that the libel statement made about Mr. Blake is false," Beth said, her stomach already churning.

"There you guys go," T-Dog said, sliding a tray with their food across the counter.

"See you tomorrow, T," Aiden said, taking the tray and Beth got them napkins and plastic ware from the end of the counter before leading them to one of the little tables set up on the sidewalk. She sat down and Aiden sat down across from her, distributing their food.

"Stop looking like I just told you to drown a basket of puppies, Beth," Aiden said.

Beth didn't say anything. She took a small bite of her first taco and then clicked open her pen before opening the file folder. "Tell me what to do," she said though she already knew.

"Find out everything about her for the past ten years. Jobs, friends, boyfriends, spending habits. Find out where she's been. See if she was even in Georgia when this supposedly happened," Aiden rattled off and Beth nodded as she wrote down her orders.

She loved her job. She just didn't necessarily love this part.

…

Beth tried her hardest not to call it victim blaming since it was a little more complicated than that, but it still, it never set right with her – researching the accuser in an effort to try and find dirt on the woman who they were filing the case against after she had gone to the newspapers and had called their town's mayor some not so nice things, accusing him of things that would forever destroy his life if true. He had hired the law offices of Harris & Monroe to prove that they were not. They had his word that they were not, but courts tended to require evidence rather than just the words of a client.

She left the office early for the first time that week but as always, she took her laptop.

She said goodnight to her coworkers, always having a smile for them, and she took the elevator down, saying goodnight to the security guard who sat at the front desk in the lobby before stepping out into the still-warm evening.

She got into her car and wondered what she would eat for dinner that night. Truth be told, she was still full from T-Dog's delicious fish tacos from lunch but she did need something. She didn't know what, but suddenly, oddly enough, going home didn't seem like enough.

When Beth pulled in the parking lot of The Pine Cone, she was surprised at how unsurprised she felt that this was where she decided to go for the second night in a row.

Shouldering her bag onto her shoulder, Beth crossed towards the front door and stepped inside. It was crowded once again – people in there, celebrating their weekend a day early. Her eyes went to the bar and she felt warmth on the back of her neck as she saw Daryl behind there as he usually was, going from person to person, getting them what they ordered.

But – and Beth had no idea how he did – it was as if he _knew_ she was in there all of a sudden because he lifted his head and his eyes met hers despite the people between them. He looked a little surprised and she didn't blame him. She never came here, two nights in a row.

His eyes cut away, glancing towards her usual stool – empty tonight – and she smiled, heading over there now. And by the time she has sat down and gotten herself settled, Daryl was setting her usual Shirley Temple down on a coaster in front of her.

Beth gave him a smile and then looked down to her drink for a second.

"Somethin' wrong?" He asked.

Beth shook her head, but even as she did, she knew that that wasn't entirely true because she was at the bar for the second night in a row. She had obviously come here for a reason.

"Actually," she lifted her head. "Can I have a…" she thought of something for a moment and then blurted out the first alcohol that came to her. "A vodka?"

Daryl looked at her and she frowned when he smirked at her. "Jus' a vodka?" He asked.

"Please," she said, making sure she looked him dead in the eye.

He was still smirking as he went to go get her the drink and she pulled her laptop from her bag, setting it on the bar and firing it up. Time to do what she did best. Research.

"One vodka," Daryl returned and set the glass of clear liquid down in front of her.

She lifted the glass and then lifted her eyes, finding him still standing there.

"You gonna watch me?" She asked.

"Wanna watch you actually get that down," he said and he was still smirking and Beth narrowed her eyes at him, which actually only seemed to amuse him more.

Beth did her best to not wrinkle her nose as she brought the glass closer and she got her first whiff. She took a deep breath and then took a swallow; a much larger gulp than she knew she should have. It burned her throat and she instantly began coughing as the alcohol seared down her esophagus and she could only hope she wouldn't throw up right there.

The glass of vodka was gone and was swiftly replaced with a glass of water.

Beth took it and greedily chugged it, chasing the taste of vodka from her tongue. When she felt like she was no longer on fire from the inside, she looked at Daryl. He didn't look amused anymore. He was now looking at her like he usually did. His expression was blank as it usually was.

"That is vile," she frowned.

"Was never a vodka fan," Daryl said, taking the glass with the offending liquor away from her and dumping it down the drain beneath the bar. He pushed the Shirley Temple closer to her. "Lemme know when you need another one," he said as he always said.

He turned and walked away, off to help the next customer, and as Beth always did, she tried her hardest to not watch him and instead, she put her attention on her work.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**As always, you guys blow me away with your response to my stories and I can never seem to thank you enough.**

 **As I "warned" in the first chapter, I'm trying something different with Beth and Daryl in this one and I'm a little nervous about what you will think of Daryl's story. As always, thank you for your support.**

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...

 **Two.**

When the gate rolled open in front of him and he stepped outside on the other side of it for the first time in two years, Merle was waiting for him by his car just as Daryl had waited for him all of the times before this when Merle got out of prison.

Merle grinned widely and pushed himself from where he leaned against the car to meet Daryl as Daryl walked towards him. A paper bag of the few possessions Daryl had taken from his cell with him – a couple of books he had bought from commissary and a couple of pictures – was tucked under his arm and when Merle hugged him tightly, Daryl patted him on the back with his free hand.

"Welcome back, baby brother," Merle grinned at him and despite everything, Daryl's lips twitched into a little smile and he gave a head nod.

Both Dixon brothers had done this so many times except it had always been Merle the one stepping out and Daryl waiting at the car to pick him up. Sometimes, Merle would last a couple of years before getting arrested and sentenced to another crime again, but sometimes, it would only be months. Merle was what the courts liked to call "repeat offender". It had always been like that – as far back as Daryl could remember. Merle was always getting arrested and being shipped off and Daryl was the one waiting for him.

With the roles reversed this time, Daryl admitted he didn't know how it was supposed to go. But Merle clapped a hand on his shoulder with the same grin.

"Let's go get you somethin' to eat," he said.

He turned and walked back to the car and just as he always had before, Daryl followed.

…

In the two years Daryl had been locked up, Merle had finally managed to turn things around for himself. He met a nice widow – Carol – and they wound up getting married and not only did Merle become a husband, but he became a stepfather to Carol's twelve-year-old daughter, Sophia.

And together, Merle and Carol decided to take a chance. They bought a small place for themselves and turned it into a bar. Because Merle was a convicted felon, he couldn't apply for a liquor license so the bar was technically in Carol's name, but Merle worked his ass off in the kitchen, making burgers and fried fish and chips and potato skins to serve on the menu while Carol tended the bar.

But when Daryl got out, Carol hugged him as if she had always known him, welcoming him home, and then promptly asked if he wanted to be a bartender.

There was an apartment above The Pine Cone that Daryl moved into and he got his bartending license. Daryl, having served time, didn't think he'd be able to get one, but Merle just laughed and said that if all of the guys who had been in prison weren't able to sling drinks anymore, a lot of the bars in this country would have 'Help Wanted' signs hanging in their windows.

Unlike Merle of the past – who never made himself that kind of promise, knowing that he'd never be able to keep it – Daryl swore to himself up and down.

He was never going back to prison.

It was amazing to him just how good his life was now – even after serving time. He had a job that paid him good enough, a nice place to live, a law-abiding brother and a sister-in-law who seemed to like having him around and he felt a little tug anytime Sophia called him "Uncle Daryl". Despite the direction his life had taken for a couple of years, this, now, was the best his life had _ever_ been.

And Daryl knew that he would rather die than lose any of it.

…

He hated birthdays at The Pine Cone. Absolutely hated them. Too damn loud and annoying and at least one person either threw up in the bathroom – missing the toilet – or they threw up in the parking lot as a result of being an idiot and not knowing how to hold their liquor.

Tonight, it was a college girl celebrating her 21st birthday and of course, her friends ordered twenty-one shots from Daryl for the girl to throw back. He never understood that. He was a grown man of forty and not even he would attempt at doing twenty-one shots. But whatever. The customer was always right and an order was an order – no matter how asinine – and orders were what got Merle and Carol money that helped them pay him his paycheck. He just didn't want someone to get alcohol poisoning in his brother's bar.

Britney Spears was blasting over the jukebox and the birthday girl was wearing a tiara and a "Birthday Girl" sash across her chest and after Daryl poured the whiskey shots, he stood by and watched – to the cheers of her friends – as she managed to down five of them before she started coughing and her eyes watered. If she threw up, Daryl wasn't cleaning it up.

He turned away and his eyes fell on the small blonde, sitting at her usual stool at the end of the bar against the wall, her eyes on the open laptop screen in front of her. He looked to her drink and saw that it was nearly gone. He made her another one before heading over.

He knew her name was Beth because one night, her sister got drunk and asked for his name and once he told her, she had said that she was Maggie Greene and that was her sister, Beth. As soon as Daryl heard her name, he thought it to himself.

Beth. That sounded about right.

He went to her now. He had no idea how she could work and concentrate with all of this noise, but somehow, she managed to do it and he wasn't complaining. He didn't know her from the girl about to go blind from drinking too much at the other end of the bar, but, he did now that Beth was probably one of his favorite customers. For some reason.

Without saying anything, he took her near empty glass away and replaced it with the fresh drink. Her fingers were flying over the keys, but they stopped when she saw his hand. She lifted her eyes and gave him a smile.

The first time she had come into the bar a couple months earlier with her older sister, Maggie – a Pine Cone regular – he had to ask for her i.d. because he just couldn't believe that this little thing in front of him was of legal age. And even once he saw her Georgia driver's license and saw that yes, she was in fact, twenty-seven years old, she sat on the stool that would soon become the stool he thought of as hers and ordered a Shirley Temple.

That sounded about right to him, too.

"Thank you," Beth smiled warmly up at him.

Daryl gave her a nod and found himself not moving away. "Workin' hard?" He asked.

She kept smiling at him as she nodded. "Just doing some research. I was going to go home and do it there, but I had a taste for the mozzarella sticks here and once I got started…"

Daryl didn't know what to say. Conversation had never been his strong suit so he didn't say anything. He didn't know what she did for a living, but from what she had told him before when he had asked her other times if she was working hard, her answers led him to think that she was a lawyer.

He didn't want to think about why the possibility of her being a lawyer disappointed him. Not that he would _ever_ make a move on her. He didn't do things like that. Never had. No matter how pretty he thought a girl was – not that he saw girls like Beth all of the time.

And as a lawyer, or at least someone who worked with the law, if Beth ever found out that Daryl had been in prison, he doubted she would ever smile at him like that again.

…

The birthday girl amazingly didn't throw up.

But she did nearly pass out and one of her male companions had to carry her out after last call and the people in the party wound up breaking three glasses. Carol swept up as Daryl carried the bin of dirty glasses back into the kitchen, where Merle was cleaning up.

"Busy as shit out there tonight," Merle said with a grin. "I hope that community college never closes down."

Daryl knew that it was Merle's goal – and dream – to become a college bar for _legal_ college-age drinking kids. College kids were always looking to get shit-faced for any reason. Celebrating the end of an exam. Celebrating the end of a class or a school year. Celebrating a day that ends in "y".

"'m gonna go have a smoke and then I'll be back to help 'ya clean up," Daryl said, setting the bin down on the counter next to the sink.

"Nah, lil' brother," Merle shook his head. "You worked your ass off tonight with that crowd. You're done for the night."

Daryl opened his mouth to protest and Merle knew it. Merle put his arm on Daryl's arm and none-too gently shoved him towards the back door.

"What did I say?" Merle frowned.

Daryl knew he could protest, but it wouldn't matter much.

So, Daryl gave him a head nod and headed out the back door into the warm evening, reaching for the pack of cigarettes and the lighter he had stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans before stepping out from behind the bar.

Last call was twelve-thirty and the bar closed down at one and at this hour, the neighborhood The Pine Cone was in was pretty quiet. Crickets doing their chirps, a couple dogs barking, someone honking their car horn. Daryl leaned against the wall behind him and lit the cigarette, closing his eyes as he took a drag.

He had to go see his parole officer tomorrow and it was never his favorite thing to do but hopefully, he would never have to have another one ever again.

…

His parole officer had an office on the second floor in the judicial building, which had a bridge that led across to the courthouse next door. Daryl's appointment was at eleven, but he arrived at the judicial building just a few minutes after ten. He always made sure that he was early for these meetings.

Daryl climbed the stairs instead of taking the elevator and he headed down the hall, stopping at the water fountain and bending down, taking a greedy drink. He was always understandably a little nervous before these meetings. Merle had warned him that his parole officer could make surprise home visits, dropping by his apartment whenever the officer of the law damn well pleased, but he hadn't done that to Daryl yet and even if he had, Daryl wouldn't really care. He hardly had any furniture, let alone anything illegal.

He lifted his head and wiped his mouth and from the corner of his eye, he saw someone walking down the hallway, her heels tapping against the floor, echoing off the walls.

It was Beth. Shit.

Her eyes were down and she was reading a file in her hands and most importantly, she didn't see Daryl. Daryl couldn't let her see him. She would ask what he was doing there and he was a shit liar and even if he wasn't, he couldn't think of a single reason as to why he should be in the judicial building.

She still hadn't looked up and Daryl quickly slipped into the men's bathroom behind him. He pressed himself against the wall next to the door and heard her heels getting closer. And then he heard them pass the door and continue on down the hallway, eventually disappearing. Daryl exhaled a breath he had been holding and waited another minute before slowly opening the door and peeking out. The hallway was empty. Beth was gone.

He was an idiot, ducking into the bathroom like that. What did it matter if Beth saw him or not? She obviously worked here and he was on his way to see his parole officer. So what? He already knew he didn't stand a shot with her.

Should have just let her see him here and get it over with.

He was sure to tell himself that it didn't really matter to him whether she knew or not.

…

"How you doin', Daryl?" His parole officer, Shane Walsh, asked, stepping into the hall from his office and seeing Daryl sitting in the chair outside, waiting.

"Good," Daryl answered, standing up, shaking Shane's extended hand.

Shane was an alright guy. Kind of intense. Kind of a meathead. He used to be with the Sherriff's Department before he left for some reason and went into Corrections, becoming a parole officer. Daryl had spent years, listening to Merle saying nothing that could be considered nice about his own parole officers, but Daryl didn't feel that way. He knew Shane was just doing his job.

"Here. Before you sit down." Shane handed him a clear plastic cup and Daryl nodded, taking the cup and heading towards the bathroom.

When he came back, he set the cup down on the desk Shane was sitting at in the small office and then sat down in the hard plastic chair next to it.

"Thanks, man," Shane said, putting the label he had written out on the cup and then setting it aside. Daryl didn't mind the drug tests. Shane – and Merle – had warned him that they would be random, but Daryl didn't have a problem with that. Drugs had always been more of Merle's thing anyway rather than his.

The only reason he was here was because two years earlier, he hadn't been able to control his temper and the other guy had wound up in the hospital. Ten seconds of fury for two years of his life and now he would forever be in the system as a convicted felon. It was amazing to him how ten seconds could fuck his entire life.

"How's the job?" Shane asked, opening Daryl's folder and clicking on his pen to write down all his answers. He had explained to Daryl during their first meeting that he had to put it all in the computer, but he was a slow typer and he'd rather peck at the keys when Daryl was gone and didn't have to watch him fumble around with it.

Daryl shrugged. "Can't complain," he responded honestly and no, he couldn't. As a man fresh out of prison on parole, he knew he was damn lucky to have a job and a place to live.

"I've been to The Pine Cone a couple of times – after your brother and his wife bought it. Maybe I should come by again," Shane said.

Daryl nearly smirked. Shane wouldn't know subtly if it walked up and smacked him in the face with a chair. "Whenever you wanna come," Daryl said with a nod.

"And have you found an anger management class to attend?" Shane asked. He finished writing and lifted his head to look at Daryl. "It was a condition of your release," he then reminded him.

As if Daryl could forget.

Anger management. He hated that he hadn't been able to get his freedom until further punishment was dropped on him. Like losing two years of his life wasn't punishment enough. Now, he had to go and attend some class – as if he had some huge problem – because in the eyes of the law, if he wasn't "rehabilitated", he'd go and punch the next person he walked past and it was back for another three years.

"Not yet," Daryl mumbled.

"Tick, tock," Shane said and then began writing something else.

Just a little bit longer of this. He just had to make it for one year and then, he would never have to come into this building and piss into a cup and report to his babysitter ever again.

…

"Daryl?"

Daryl knew exactly who it was and he turned the instant he heard her say his name.

Beth stood there, her arms full of file folders, and she was giving him that warm – somewhat shy – smile of hers. He was never going to admit to himself just how much he liked that smile.

"Hey," he grunted at her, putting his hands in his jeans pockets.

"I thought that was you. What are you doing here?" She asked.

That was a very good question. What _was_ he doing in the lobby of the judicial building?

He said the first thing that popped into his head. "I heard they have a really good lunch counter here." He hated the answer the second he said it.

But Beth was still smiling. "They really do. Have you eaten already?"

Daryl shook his head, not giving a verbal answer. "Wha' about you? Why are you here?"

"Just collecting some things. I work in an office building down the street, but I spend a lot of my time here," she said and she was still smiling and Daryl almost wanted to ask her why she seemed to always be smiling at him like that. No one had ever smiled at him – like that or in any other way.

"You a lawyer?" He asked though he knew he probably already knew the answer.

"I'm a paralegal," she said. "I work for Harris & Monroe," she added and the way she said it, it made him think that maybe he was supposed to recognize the place and be impressed. Or maybe it was because she was smiling and sounding so damn proud to be telling him that he got the impression that he _should_ be impressed.

"Wha's a paralegal?"

Still with that smile. "I'm trained in legal matters, but I'm not fully qualified as a lawyer. I sit in court with the lawyers and I do most of the research for the cases, but I don't present."

"So you do all the work and they get all the glory?" Daryl frowned at that.

"That's one way to look at it," Beth let out a little laugh. "Did you eat already?" She asked.

Daryl shook his head, not speaking.

"I haven't either," she said and he could see the faint pink shade her cheeks were turning. He wondered why she was blushing. "Would you like-"

She began to ask, but then she abruptly cut herself off, and Daryl nearly told her, yeah, he wouldn't mind eating with her at all, but he stopped himself before agreeing. He couldn't. Because while Beth had no idea about him, that didn't mean that someone else around here didn't. And he didn't want someone to walk up and ask Beth why she was sharing her lunch hour with an ex-con. Beth needed to eat her lunch with one of those fancy lawyer guys.

Beth – with her pretty blonde hair in her pretty blue dress – did not sit across from guys like him and eat their lunches.

"Yeah, but, I can't," he said and watched the disappointment evident in her eyes. He imagined that she wasn't very good at playing cards. "Bar opens at two and I gotta get back and help my brother get things ready."

It wasn't really a lie. The bar did open at two, but his shift didn't start until five. Until then, Carol handed the afternoon crowd – which, at the most, was all of three people.

"Alright," Beth said and her smile – a small one this time, but a smile – was back. "It was good to see you."

"Yeah, you too."

He wondered if she noticed that he left the building without buying anything from the food counter, but he knew that she probably did. Girl was a lawyer. Lawyers didn't miss much.

…

"Uncle Daryl!"

The front door to his apartment above the bar opened and then slammed shut and Daryl's eyes flew open. He turned his head on the pillow and looked at the clock on his nightstand. He was reading in bed and he must have fallen asleep though he didn't remember.

It was three-thirty. She was right on time.

He pulled himself off the mattress, his paperback having fallen on the floor, and he bent down, picking it up and tossing it on the bed. He still didn't have a bed. Just a mattress. It didn't matter much to him as long as he slept in anyplace other than a cell with bars over the windows, but Carol had mentioned more than once about taking him furniture shopping. A man should have more than a mattress and a futon, she told him.

He came out of the bedroom and his niece, Merle's step-daughter, Sophia, was already sitting on the futon in the living room, emptying her notebooks and books from her bookbag onto the little table in front of her that he had as a coffee table.

With both Carol and Merle working in the bar when she got home from school, they didn't like her going home to an empty one so the arrangement was made that Sophia would hang out upstairs with Daryl in his place before he went downstairs to get to work and Carol took Sophia home for dinner.

"Wan' somethin' to drink?" He asked the girl as he headed towards the refrigerator.

Sophia nodded as she flipped open the textbook on top of the pile. "What do you know about Ancient Egypt?" She asked.

"Nothin'," he answered honestly. He came to the futon and handed her a can of Coke and a bag of pretzel rods before sitting down on the other end of the futon with his own can of Coke and the remote for the television. "What do you know?" He asked. He turned the television on, but then immediately muted it and looked at her as he snapped the tab back on the soda can.

Sophia burst into a smile and then proceeded, for five minutes, to tell him all about Ancient Egypt – their Gods and the pyramids and she even described the process of mummification – in slightly alarming detail.

"'s that all?" He asked when she seemed done.

"There is a _ton_ more," Sophia leaned back, bringing her legs up and hugging her knees to her chest as she ate a pretzel rod. "We just started learning about it yesterday and I already love it. It's so much more interesting than our history."

Daryl smirked a little at that. "Ain't readin' the right history books then," he said.

She was quiet for a moment, thinking that one over. She sipped her Coke and Daryl looked to the television, watching some nature show, still on mute.

"How can you take naps so late in the afternoon?" Sophia then asked him. "If I take a nap too late in the day, I _never_ fall asleep at night."

Daryl shrugged. He didn't like talking with her about prison even though she knew all about it – from Merle and her dad before he died. Apparently, Carol's first husband had been as big a bastard as they came – drinking and beating her up and he had been thrown in jail for a couple of overnighters a couple of times.

"Sometimes, there wasn' much else to do," was all he said and Sophia nodded her head as if she understood perfectly and it made him frown a little because the girl was only twelve. She wasn't supposed to understand anything – especially prison – perfectly.

She was a good kid and seemed like she had adjusted to life well enough despite what her first years of it had brought to her. But now, her mom had married again to a guy who didn't slap either of them around – Merle may have been crude, but like Daryl, Merle would cut his own hand off before he ever raised it to a woman – and now, she had a stable home and two stable parents who loved her and were able to provide for her.

"Dad says he read a lot, too," Sophia said.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, but offered no more than that. He had read more books in two years than he had ever even touched in his life before being locked up.

"I have a library card," she informed him. "Do you think you can take me to the library and help me get the _right_ kind of history books?"

He felt himself smiling a little at that. "Yeah. I think I can do that with you."

Sophia instantly burst into a smile. "Thank you, Uncle Daryl."

She then took another pretzel rod from the bag and munched on it as she continued with her history homework. Daryl watched her for a moment and then his eyes went back to the television screen, sipping his Coke. He wondered why he was okay with a twelve-year-old being seen with an ex-con, but he wasn't okay with a woman being seen with him.

...

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to leave me your thoughts!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**I really loved writing this chapter and I introduced a lot of hints of what _might_ come in later chapters. Thank you for your support!**

* * *

…

 **Three.**

"Beth?"

"Down here, daddy!" Beth called out from the basement.

Hershel Greene let himself into the house and walked to the open basement door, standing at the top of the stairs and looking down with a frown. "And why is your front door unlocked, Elizabeth Anne Greene?" He asked his youngest daughter, watching as she stood at the dryer, folding towels.

"Because I knew you were coming," she answered simply.

"I don't care if you live in the middle of nowhere. You keep that door locked," Hershel told her sternly, still frowning as she came up the stairs with the laundry basket in her arms.

As Beth passed him, she stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Hi, daddy," she said and continued on into her bedroom.

Hershel followed after her. "You're not a stupid girl, Beth. At least keep the screen door locked and let me stand on the porch and knock."

"Alright, daddy, I will," Beth said as set the basket down on her bed. Sometimes – she had learned over the years – it was just far easier agreeing with Hershel Greene than arguing with him; something, it seemed, that Maggie was incapable of learning for herself and having arguments with Hershel seemed to be one of her favorite things to do. "I told you on the phone you didn't have to come," she then reminded him as she went to the small linen closet in the hallway to put the towels away.

"And I told you that I was coming anyway. Wanted to take a look at that faucet," Hershel said and for the first time, Beth noticed that his toolbox hung from one hand.

"And I told you that I would call a plumber," Beth said.

"Humph," Hershel frowned. "Do not insult me with those words." And with that, he turned and with his toolbox, he went into her bathroom.

Beth smiled and finished putting away the rest of the towels and then placed her laundry basket back into the corner before leaving the bedroom and heading into the kitchen where her work was spread out on the table. She went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water before sitting down, picking up where she had left off before the dryer had buzzed.

She was gathering all of the information on the woman accusing Mr. Blake of sexual assault – among other things – that Aiden had asked her for and she should have her file complete to present to him on Monday morning.

She still felt guilty about digging into a woman's life, but she knew that it was part of the job. Law and order. A person just couldn't go around, accusing a person of something if it wasn't true. Beth loved the law and she loved that she lived in a place in the world where the law was so important. Without the law, they would all still be running around, throwing hunting sticks at one another. The time for guilt would come if it was discovered that Mr. Blake _had_ , in fact, done all that was accused of him, but until then, innocent until proven guilty and as the firm's client, she had to go into this thinking that Mr. Blake was innocent.

The offices of Harris & Monroe were involved in several charities around town and tonight, they were hosting a formal event to raise money for the Boys & Girls Club. Beth's dress hung on the door of her closet and she knew she would have to start getting ready soon, but she wanted to get all of her research done before then. She went to church with her parents every Sunday morning and then she truly believed that Sunday was the day of rest. She never liked working on that day and her mom had told her more than once that she needed at least _one_ day during the week where she didn't work herself down to the bone or she would lose her mind without even realizing it.

Hearing footsteps coming down the short hallway, Beth stood up as Hershel came into the room and she went to the refrigerator, getting him a bottle of water as well.

"I am a Greene and I never accept defeat," Hershel told his daughter.

"Am I calling a plumber?" Beth guessed, doing her best not to smile, sitting back down.

Hershel sighed as he lowered himself in the chair across from her. "I thought it was just your hair clogging it, but there's something else and I have no idea what."

"Thank you for trying, daddy," Beth smiled at him and Hershel let out another humph before taking a drink of water and looked at all of the papers spread across the table.

"You work too hard, Bethy," Hershel said.

He was blessed with three children in this life. His oldest, Maggie, his son, Shawn, and his youngest, Beth, and he would _never_ say it out loud because he truly did love all of his children equally, but Beth had always been his pride and joy. Maggie and Shawn had turned his hair white at an age far earlier than it should have been and he loved their zest for life and how they seemed to have no fear in doing anything or trying something new. They had gone off and done their own thing and truly lived their lives to the fullest.

And it wasn't as if Beth didn't do that, but she was the calmest of the three. She graduated from college and then went to Law School and graduated before returning home and earning a job at the most well-respected law firm around. She was dedicated and passionate and he could not have been more proud of her.

She was his good child.

"I work just the right amount," Beth responded as she usually did when Hershel brought up the topic, which seemed to be quite often. "And now, it looks like I need to work so I can pay for a plumber," she teased him with a smile.

…

The Law Offices of Harris & Monroe had rented out a ballroom at the hotel for the night and people floated around in sharp suits and pretty dresses, talking and networking and enjoying themselves with the trays of appetizers and the open bar. Boxes also were walked around for people to slip in their checks of the donated amount they were making.

Beth always hated these events though she had very little choice in the matter of attending. For those who worked at Harris & Monroe, attendance was not optional. She had built the habit of making sure Andrea and Aiden saw her, eat her dinner, and then slip out to go home. Sometimes, it took her longer to get ready than what she actually she stayed.

In her flowing knee-length pink dress, Beth stepped into the ballroom and immediately began looking for either of her bosses, finding Aiden first, standing at the bar, entertaining a tall red-head in a dress as tight as skin. She headed straight for him.

"I'm here," she informed him.

Aiden stopped talking to the redhead to look at Beth, smiling. "Alright. Your attendance has been noted. Go and eat something."

Beth sighed with relief and gave him a smile before doing just that.

She found a tray with mini-spring rolls and she took one of the toothpicks and wove through the people and the tables before finding a table near the back of the ballroom, close to the door, and settled herself down into one of the chairs. A waiter came around and offered her a glass of water from the tray and she gratefully took it. All around her, the conversation swept over her and no one paid any attention to her. She tried not to imagine what she would be doing if she wasn't here. Much to Maggie's chagrin, Beth saw herself in her pajamas, lying on her couch with a blanket tucked around her and a movie on the television. Quiet and alone – just the way Beth preferred things to be.

"You look about as thrilled as I am to be here."

Beth turned her head and smiled once she saw who it was. "Hi, Zach," she greeted him.

Zach, the youngest lawyer in Harris & Monroe – Beth would be actually the youngest if she was an actual practicing lawyer – gave her a smile as he plopped himself down in the empty chair next to her and she could smell the whiskey in his glass.

"Did you just get here?" He asked.

Beth nodded. "Made sure Aiden saw me."

She had confessed to him during the last charity dinner what she did – making herself be seen and then sneaking out after dinner – and Zach grinned now before taking a swig from his glass. Beth looked at him for a moment as she sipped her water. He wore a sharp dark navy blue suit with a black tie and white shirt underneath and with his floppy hair that he somehow still managed to make look professional, Zach was young and handsome and Beth knew that she was one of the few people in the office who didn't have a crush on him. Even the married women blushed a little when Zach gave them smiles.

Beth liked Zach. She liked that they were the same age and they were able to gossip about celebrities together because they were at that age where they could still follow inane gossip about famous people whether they wanted to know or not. They liked the same kind of music – "oldies but goodies" as Zach called them and single guys on stage with their guitars. Ever since he found out that Beth played both the piano and guitar, he had been relentless in getting her to play him something; no matter how many times Beth refused him. And she refused him every single time. She didn't like playing in front of people.

Another waiter came by with a different tray of appetizers and Zach helped himself to three crab cakes and snagged one for Beth, too.

"Any idea what they're serving for dinner?" Zach asked with his mouth full.

Beth shook her head, sipping her water. "Probably prime rib. It's always prime rib."

"Never thought I'd say it when prime rib is on the menu, but sometimes, I just want a burger, damn it," Zach grumbled and she laughed softly.

As she continued looking to those around her, her mind wandered to thoughts of Daryl all of a sudden and she wasn't entirely sure why, but she sat there and imagined him sitting next to her. She couldn't imagine him attending a black-tie dinner like this with her, but there he was, sitting next to her in a black suit with his messy hair and he was drinking a beer because she couldn't imagine him drinking anything else.

And she could easily imagine him hating every single second of this, but he would come and sit with her and meet her coworkers and the instant they had eaten and Beth said they could go, Daryl would grab her hand and he would all but tug her out of that ballroom and she would be hurrying after him with her laughter in her ears.

It was a silly fantasy to be having, but Beth continued it all throughout the dinner, and it certainly helped the time go by until she was able to slip out the doors to Zach smiling and telling her to have a good night.

…

After leaving the hotel, Beth considered stopping at The Pine Cone, but decided against it at the last moment. The last time she saw him at been in the town's judicial building and she thought she had made him nervous, inviting him to eat lunch with her at the lunch counter, considering how quickly he had gotten away from her after the invitation. She had actually never asked a man for something like that. Her boyfriend in high school and then the second in Law School had both been the pursuers. Going after men was more of Maggie's thing. She certainly had the confidence for it. Beth just felt like she had no idea what she was doing and it certainly seemed to be the truth if she went off of Daryl's reaction.

Maybe she could ask her big sister for some advice. Maggie, she knew, would love to give it. But she could never tell Maggie that she was asking because she had a crush on the bartender at The Pine Cone. Beth knew Maggie and Maggie would have a field day with that if she ever found out. Maggie firmly believed that Beth had to have so much more fun with herself and in Maggie speak, that meant sleeping with more men; something the sisters _never_ agreed on. Maggie was more than comfortable with herself and Beth supposed she was, as well. She just had never enjoyed sex that much and figured she was doing something wrong that kept her from doing so.

And despite what Maggie thought, Beth was capable of living a full life without having sex.

It had been a couple of weeks since the last time she was in the bar, sitting on her stool, during work as Daryl kept her up on her supply of Shirley Temples, but as she went from the hotel back towards home, she kept on driving without stopping. It was Saturday night and the bar would be crowded and he would be too busy serving real drinks. Besides, she would much rather go home anyway.

Beth had remembered to leave her porch light on before leaving the house earlier that evening and now, it created a beacon of light as she parked her car and headed up the front steps to the front door. Stepping inside, she immediately closed and locked the door once more behind her and turned off the porch light. Finally. Home. Her favorite place to be.

…

Aiden was on the phone when she came to his office and she was about to turn and walk away, but Aiden gestured for her to come in anyway.

With the folder in her hands, Beth stepped into the office and lowered herself into the chair on the other side of Aiden's desk. She didn't listen to Aiden's phone call, distracting herself instead with reading through what she had gathered in the folder. When she heard him hang up, rather forcefully, she lifted her eyes again. He was clenching his jaw and looked angry. She wondered who he was talking to, but she knew he would tell her if she had to know. That was one thing she really liked with both Aiden and Andrea. They may have been amazing attorneys who had years of court experience under their belts and had more wins than losses, but they never treated any of those who worked in their office as if they were beneath either of them.

"I need a drink," he said, standing up and grabbing his suit jacket from where it hung on the back of his chair. "Come on, Greene. Out of office meeting," he stated as he headed out the door and Beth had little choice in but following after him.

…

"Here?" Beth asked, sitting in the passenger seat of Aiden's car, looking at the familiar front of The Pine Cone through the windshield.

"I didn't take you as a snob, Beth," Aiden teased her, turning off the engine.

"No," she quickly shook her head. "I just can't believe _you_ would want to come here."

Aiden smiled. "I'm not a snob either. Don't let the eight-hundred dollar suit fool you. Besides, they have the best Walleye here."

He got out of the car and Beth followed him. At the door, he opened it for her and she stepped in first, her eyes immediately going to bar and she had no idea why she felt so nervous, but her stomach was certainly flapping around as if she was.

Daryl was behind the bar, wearing his usual jeans and Pine Cone tee-shirt. There was only one other patron in the bar at that hour – an older man sitting at the end of the bar with a mug of beer and a book of crossword puzzles open in front of him. Daryl was wiping glasses and he lifted his eyes when he heard the new arrival and Beth swore that he froze when he saw that it was her; but she knew that she was probably just imagining that reaction.

Aiden gently took her elbow and steered her to one of the tables in the middle of the room and Beth couldn't help but hate that Aiden had just touched her – no matter how innocent – when Daryl was around to see. And then Beth swiftly scolded herself for thinking that. It didn't really matter what Daryl saw or didn't see. How could it ever matter?

She slid up onto the stool at the tall table and Aiden slid on the stool across from her.

Daryl came up a moment later and set a Shirley Temple in front of her.

"Thank you," she gave him a small smile and he gave her a nod of his head before looking towards Aiden, not speaking; waiting for him to.

"Can I just get a bottle of Heineken and the Walleye with fries?" Aiden ordered.

Daryl looked back to Beth.

"That sounds good. Me, too," she said and without a word, Daryl turned and walked away from the table, heading through the swinging door that led into the kitchen in the back.

Aiden watched Beth with a smile as she took a small sip of her drink and opened her folder.

"Is Beth Greene actually a regular at a bar?" Her boss teased her.

"I come here occasionally," Beth admitted, seeing no reason why she shouldn't. "And I'm probably the only person who comes to a bar who doesn't order alcohol so of course he would remember it."

Daryl returned within the minute with Aiden's beer and Beth refused to allow herself to watch him as he returned to behind the bar. Instead, she took another sip of her drink and pushed the first piece of paper towards Aiden.

"So, the accuser did live in town ten years ago," Beth began and Aiden's smile slid a little as he picked up the piece of paper to read it over himself.

…

Daryl brought out their lunches as they were pouring over credit card statements and he took her empty glass.

"You wan' another one?" He asked.

"Can I just get a water?" She asked. "Thank you, Daryl." And this time, she did watch as he walked away, but when she heard Aiden smirking, her head immediately turned back towards him.

"You're adorable," he teased and she swiftly kicked at his leg beneath the table.

…

As they were finishing up, Aiden's cell phone began to ring and whoever was calling him, he stood up, handed Beth his credit card and went outside to speak in private. A couple more people had come into the bar as she and Aiden ate and worked and Beth lingered at the table for a moment, wondering if she should go up and interrupt him as he poured drinks.

She hated being so unsure around guys. Actually, guys she _liked_. When it came to people – men and women – she had no problem speaking with or interacting with. She couldn't do what she did if she didn't like talking with people. But guys whom she had crushes on, she was hopeless. She got shy and blushed too easily and just never seemed to know what to say or do when around them.

Beth knew that the odds of Daryl having any sort of crush on her in return was slim. He was a bartender and women came to The Pine Cone every night and it wasn't as if she put herself in front of him every night. Just once every couple of weeks and it wasn't even as if she spoke with him when she was here. She just ordered her childish non-alcoholic drink and buried her eyes on her laptop screen and didn't do anything to make herself stand out to him. She wouldn't be surprised if he thought she was pathetic.

That thought made Beth frown. She _wasn't_ pathetic. Far from it. She was young and successful and her bosses loved her and she was darn good at her job and she had just bought her first house and she was _not_ pathetic.

Mind made up, she slid from the stool and with the credit card, she headed towards the bar. Daryl saw her coming and he met her at the end where she usually sat when she came.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said.

Beth shook her head. "There's no need to apologize," she said and managed to give him a smile as he took the credit card she handed him.

"Everythin' was good?" Daryl asked her.

"It was so good, as always," she smiled a little easier this time and she knew she wasn't imagining the twitch in his lips.

She watched him swipe the card through the machine, watched the way his muscle arms in his tee-shirt twitched, and she prayed that her face wasn't actually on fire because that was what it definitely felt like right now.

She knew her daddy considered her to be his "good" child. She wondered what he would think if she started dating a bartender who looked as rough around the edges as Daryl did.

…

Beth got home around five – an early night for her – and as she turned down the dirt road that led to her house, she saw her sister's car parked in front of the garage and Maggie sat on the front porch waiting for her. Beth kept meaning to give her a key. She had given one to Hershel and Annette for emergencies, but deep down, Beth knew she hadn't given one to Maggie yet because she kept imagining Maggie bursting in whenever she wanted and her house was her quiet sanctuary and Beth wanted to keep it that way.

"You could have called me," Beth said as she passed her and unlocked the front door. "I would have come home sooner."

"I haven't been waiting that long," Maggie said, walking in after her and after closing the door and kicking off her shoes, she collapsed onto Beth's couch.

"I've already been to The Pine Cone today," Beth felt the need to tell her as she went to put her computer bag and purse on the table.

"I was thinking maybe I could just hang around here tonight."

Beth was instantly suspicious. "Why?" She asked.

"Don't lawyer me," Maggie said. She had picked up a magazine from the coffee table and was now flipping through it, not even looking at Beth. "I figured we could just order a pizza and watch a movie or something."

"Again. Why?" Beth asked, watching her closely.

Maggie released a sigh. "Because there's this really cute pizza delivery guy and I live two minutes from the pizza parlor and I can't have him deliver me a pizza there. There. Happy?"

Beth just smiled a little as she left to go into her bedroom to kick off her heels and change out of her dress into something far more comfortable. She could hear Maggie on the phone, placing an order for an extra-large mushroom, black olive and green pepper – their favorite, and Beth changed into cotton pajama bottoms and a black hoodie. She swore that her favorite part of any day was when she was able to take her bra off. Beth had always been small chested – mosquito bites compared to Maggie's – so it wasn't as if she necessarily always had to wear one, but Andrea liked to keep the office cold.

Returning to the living room, Beth sank into the over-stuffed armchair and closed her eyes as she let out a heavy, tired sigh.

"You work too hard," Maggie said, returning to reading the magazine.

"Why does everyone say that?" Beth grumbled, keeping her eyes closed.

"Because it's true. You're twenty-seven, Beth. You'll only be twenty-seven once."

Beth didn't say anything to that because it wasn't the first time Maggie had said something like that and she knew that there really was no response she could give that would satisfy Maggie. No matter how Beth lived her life, she knew it would never meet the approval of her big sister so Beth had long ago stopped trying to convince Maggie that she _was_ happy, because to Maggie, if you weren't going to bars and dating a different man every week, how on earth could you possibly be happy?

…

"Cute, right?" Maggie asked as she watched the car pull away from Beth's house and heading back down the dirt road.

"In a very bumbling adorkable way," Beth smiled.

"Glenn," Maggie tasted the man's name on her tongue as she took the pizza box into the living room and placed it on the coffee table. "I think we'll order another pizza next week. Maybe this could become our new Thursday night tradition."

Beth had gone into the kitchen and returned with two plates and a stack of napkins. "Whatever you want, Maggie," Beth said, helping herself to a slice, because sometimes – most of the time – it was just far easier to go along with Maggie rather than fight her.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to leave a comment!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for being patient with me.**

* * *

…

 **Four.**

"What do you think?" Merle asked with a grin from the little stage at the back of the bar.

Daryl finished pouring the drink for the guy sitting across from him, on the other side of the bar, and looked up to see that his brother was almost done hooking up the bar's new karaoke machine and sound system. Daryl couldn't help the frown.

"Think it looks like my livin' version of Hell," he answered truthfully, but Merle just laughed at that and went back to figuring out which cord went where. Both brothers knew that Daryl probably could get the system set up within minutes, but both brothers also knew that there was no chance in hell that Daryl would help with this.

Carol laughed softly from the table she was wiping down. "It'll be fun, Daryl," she told her brother-in-law, obviously enjoying his obvious disdain at the newest idea Merle had had for the bar.

Daryl nearly snorted at that, but didn't say anything. Hell, no, it wasn't going to be fun. He could imagine it now. A bunch of drunk people getting up there and singing a whole bunch of awful songs while their friends cheered for their idiocy. Daryl could already imagine the noise and he had a feeling that he would hate this karaoke machine within the first hour that it was up and running more than he did from just the sight of it.

He heard the door open and turning his eyes, he wasn't surprised when _she_ came in, but he felt himself standing a little straighter at the sight of her.

Beth's eyes seemed to immediately go to the bar as soon as she walked in and she found him; Daryl wondered if she was really looking for him or if it was just a natural place for her eyes to go. But either way, when she saw him, she gave him a soft smile and he did his best to smile in return though he was pretty sure his lips were barely able to twitch. Even if he wanted to smile at her – which he found himself wanting to – Daryl found that he was never able to for some reason.

That tall dark-haired guy in the fancy suit walked in after her and they went towards a booth along the wall this time. This was their fourth lunch meeting here in the past couple of weeks and they used the table to spread out their paperwork and Beth's laptop and whatever they were working on, they usually stayed here for at least a couple of hours with the guy drinking a couple of beers and Beth ordering at least one greasy appetizer to eat.

Daryl wondered why they came to a bar to have lunch meetings, but he supposed it was because for the first couple of hours The Pine Cone was open in the afternoons, it was pretty quiet with just one or two other patrons. Except today, Merle was setting up that stupid karaoke machine and cursing about it every few seconds.

Daryl stayed behind the bar because Carol was here today and she could take their order and as they sat down in their booth, Carol went to them. Daryl watched Beth smile up at the woman, but then he remembered himself and quickly looked away. The last thing he wanted was someone – especially Merle – to notice that he was looking at the pretty blonde who had just walked into the bar in her pretty red dress.

"We need to get you both a frequent buyer's card or something," Carol was saying with laughter in her voice. "For every six purchases, you get a free order of mozzarella sticks."

Beth did laugh at that. "If that card actually does exist, I would love to have one. I love your mozzarella sticks here."

Daryl was pretty sure that she looked at him then, but there was a television bolted onto the wall just over his head, turned to twenty-four hour news, and he figured she was just looking at that.

"I keep telling her that she needs to eat like this while she can," the dark-haired man said, giving Carol his own smile. "Once you hit thirty, it's all over."

Carol laughed. "Isn't that the truth?"

From across the bar, Daryl could see the pink stain Beth's cheeks as she kept smiling.

Carol took their orders and once she told Daryl, he got the bottle of Heineken and a glass and can of Diet Coke and brought it to the table and Carol went into the kitchen to start making their food.

"Hi," Beth greeted him, looking up at him with that smile of hers, and Daryl could have sworn that she sounded almost breathless, but he had no idea why she would be that.

"Hey," he grunted back, setting their drinks down.

Beth wore a red dress and black heels that day and there was the slightest wave to her hair. And the man with his trim haircut and clean-shaven face sitting across from her, looking amused for some reason, was wearing a dark blue suit and white shirt with a gray tie, looking like he just stepped off of some billboard advertising overpriced whiskey.

Daryl felt immediately like a bum who wandered into the place from off the street with his blue jeans and bar tee-shirt and that day, he had a backwards baseball cap smashed on over his head. He was suddenly aware of how long his hair was compared to the other guy's.

"Lemme know when you need a refill," he said to them both, but his eyes stayed on Beth, and before she could say something else – he didn't even know if she was going to – Daryl turned and walked away, returning to his place behind the bar.

He belonged behind the bar.

…

As always, Beth and the other guy stayed for a couple of hours because despite Merle's occasional outburst of curse words, the bar really didn't pick up in customer – and noise – volume until around four so they were able to work in a relatively quiet environment. Daryl wondered why they didn't have a conference room or something back at their office to work out of. Maybe they just came for Heineken and mozzarella sticks.

Daryl did his best to not look over in their direction while they were there because they were working and he was working, too, and he had other things to do besides stare at Beth. He had no right to look at her – not even once – and the last thing he wanted or needed was Beth to look up at the same time and find him staring at her like some damn stalker.

Beth would occasionally laugh at something the guy across from her said and it tinkled softly across the bar and the guy grinned at her and Daryl couldn't help but think of how right they looked together. That was the kind of guy Beth needed to sit across from. It was the same when they saw each other in the judicial building and she invited him to eat with her at the lunch counter. If only she knew that he had a record and had served time. He wondered if he should just blurt it out one of these times he saw her. Maybe if he did and saw the way her smile would probably disappear instantly towards him, Daryl would find it easier to do his own job without stealing glances over at her.

Sometimes, when he looked over at her, he would think for one asinine moment that maybe, he had some kind of actual shot with her. Those thoughts should never be in his head, Daryl tried to tell himself, and he didn't know why he couldn't remember it.

"Oh, shoot," he heard Beth say, but Daryl refused to look in her direction. He was counting beer bottles and checking on inventory before the night rush.

He only looked up when he heard the tapping of her heels and he lifted his eyes to see her coming towards the bar, looking at him with a shy smile across her face.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she said.

"You need another drink?" He asked and slid the pencil he was holding behind his ear.

Beth looked at him for a moment and then he saw her swallow and clear her throat. "I was hoping, if you have one… do you have a highlighter I might be able to borrow? I forgot mine back in my cubicle."

"Yeah. Hold on."

Daryl left behind the bar and headed into his brother's office. He returned with a bright green highlighter, walking towards her and handing it over to her.

"Thank you, Daryl," she smiled at him, taking it from him, and he was aware the instant their fingers brushed together.

Daryl was quick to yank his hand back at the contact and his reaction seemed to make Beth jump a little, pulling her own hand away.

He nearly swore. He was acting like some damn idiot around her and she probably shared the same thought. He already knew nothing was ever going to happen with her so why couldn't he just act like some normal human being whenever she was around?

"I'll get this back to you," she said and she was looking down at the highlighter she was now fiddling with in her hands and when she lifted her eyes once more to him, she gave him the barest smile before turning and walking briskly back to her table.

Daryl suppressed a sigh, pissed and frustrated with himself. Back to behind the bar.

…

"It'd be funny if it wasn' so damn pathetic," Merle chuckled once Beth and the man left after staying for their usual couple of hours.

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl grumbled even though there was no bite in his tone because it wasn't like Merle was saying something that wasn't true.

"Why you actin' like she's got a case of leprosy or somethin' you're afraid of catching?"

Daryl was completely prepared to just ignore him and not answer, but Merle was standing there, staring at him, and Daryl finally let out a sigh.

"You've seen her," he grunted. "And you've seen me."

He didn't look up as he wiped glasses, but even if he wasn't looking up, that didn't mean that he couldn't feel Merle's frown set on him. He was doing his best to ignore it though. He knew Merle got it – even if Merle was acting like he didn't. It didn't matter how much Merle had changed or that he was married and a stepdad now. No matter how much changed, some things would always stay the same and one of those things was that they would always have the Dixon blood. They could run for President of the United States and it wouldn't matter because at the end of the day, being a Dixon was part of who they were.

And being a Dixon did a lot of things; mainly fucked up everything.

Merle then sighed heavily. "She may look like it, but that don't mean she is an actual angel," he said.

Daryl shrugged, but didn't say anything else. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to say. Beth may not have been an actual lawyer, but she worked in a law office with lawyers and that girl worked with the law every damn day. And someone who worked in law didn't just go around, having anything to do with the people they worked to put behind bars. Daryl was a felon. There was nothing that would ever get that off his permanent record. From now on, any time anyone ran his name through any kind of database system, they would be able to see they he had served time in prison. Hell, Beth worked at a law office. Daryl was pretty sure all she had to do was type his name on her computer and have a full background check on him done in a matter of seconds.

It'd be like a guard dating one of the prisoners. Shit like that just didn't happen. And if it did, it wasn't accepted. By anyone.

"Ain't no harm in talkin' to her like a human bein'," Merle decided to press further.

Daryl finally lifted his eyes and gave his brother a look. Merle just smirked though.

"This ain't the prison yard, baby brother, and even if it was, I wouldn't be scared of that look of yours," Merle said and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Carol and that Beth did give me an idea though. Frequent buyer cards. Reward 'em for spendin' so much money here. That might have to be the thing I do next."

Daryl didn't say anything. Merle was thinking out loud. It wasn't necessary for him to talk.

"Oh my God!" A college girl exclaimed as she and her friends neared the bar. "They got a karaoke machine!" She began clapping excitedly and she and her friends were practically screeching and Daryl stopped in mid-wipe to give Merle another look.

Merle just grinned at him.

…

He knew it. He fucking knew it. That karaoke machine was his own version of Hell right here on earth and the damn thing had only been hooked up for a couple of hours.

But in that time, he had been listening to sugary-pop shit songs as well as Johnny Cash and Lynyrd Skynyrd songs mixed in. Last time he checked, they didn't live in Alabama so why the hell did people have to sing that damn song like they did?

He tried to distract himself, keeping up with drink orders. It was Thursday night and there was a half-off special on mixed drinks for females and he was definitely busy. Carol was hurrying back and forth from the kitchen, filling food orders, and stopping by the bar to order more drinks from the tables for those who weren't standing at the bar. It was a steady stream all night and Daryl felt like he wasn't even getting a second to breathe.

"Daryl!"

Over the noise, Daryl turned his head towards the person calling his name and he saw that it was Maggie, having elbowed herself a spot at the end of the bar. Daryl couldn't help but look around to see if Beth had come with her as he made his way towards her.

"Hey," he grunted his greeting. "What can I get you?"

"Vodka and Coke, but make sure there's actually more vodka than Coke," she ordered.

Daryl smirked a little. He gave her a head nod and quickly fixed her the drink, dunking a little red straw into the glass and sliding it across the bar towards her.

"Thank you and-" Maggie pulled a twenty from her pocket. "-keep them coming."

Daryl nodded, taking the bill.

"Have you seen a Korean man come in here tonight by some chance?" She asked.

Daryl shook his head and noted that Maggie seemed to deflate a little at the news.

Maggie took a swig of her drink. "How the hell can you stand it in here?" She shouted to him as another girl got up on the stage and started singing some song he didn't know because he was too old to know it.

Daryl smirked. "Picturin' killin' jus' about everyone in here tonight." He didn't know if he said it loud enough for her to hear him, but she must have because she let out a laugh.

"Well, hopefully, it will get better for you in a few minutes," she said. "My sister has agreed to sing a song tonight."

Daryl felt himself pause for just a split second before he went back to pouring another drink. He didn't answer. He couldn't think of anything to say. Beth would be singing a song at the karaoke machine. So what?

"She never sings in front of anyone, but I did what I do best. I bullied her," Maggie smiled and then took another swig of her drink. Daryl noticed that the glass was almost empty and yet, for drinking it so fast, Maggie Greene didn't seem buzzed in the least. This definitely wasn't the first glass of vodka she had ever thrown back. "I did promise her that I would have a drink waiting for her when she got off the stage though."

Daryl had the Shirley Temple placed in front of Maggie within seconds.

And as he went off to see to someone else waving him down, he did his best to keep his eyes from going towards the little stage every few seconds, waiting for her to get up there.

…

Busy. Too damn busy to stop just so he could watch and listen to Beth on the stage.

She had gotten up a minute before, looking shy and almost embarrassed as everyone applauded before she began and her fingers curled around the microphone on the stand. Maggie stayed at the bar and she put her fingers in her mouth, blowing out a sharp whistle, and as if Beth knew it was her older sister, she gave out a little laugh and seemed to relax almost instantly as she exhaled a breath. She had just been there a few hours earlier and she was still wearing the red dress and heels and the last thing Daryl was going to allow himself to think was how pretty she looked.

The first notes of the song began to play and Daryl recognized it after a second after a night of songs that made him want to bash his head against the wall, this was the best song he had ever heard. And then she began to sing and he couldn't help but stop for a moment to look at her. And it seemed as if everyone in The Pine Cone that night was feeling and thinking the same as him, all eyes seeming to go to her as they quieted down a bit.

 _"In a little café, just the other side of the border._

 _She was just sitting there, givin' me looks that made my mouth water._

 _So I started walking her way,_

 _she belonged to bad man, Jose._

 _And I knew, yes I knew, I should leave,_

 _when I heard her say,_

 _Come a little bit closer,_

 _You're my kind of man._

 _So big and so strong._

 _Come a little bit closer,_

 _I'm all alone,_

 _And the night is so long."_

She began moving her hips a little to the beat as she sang the next verse, growing in confidence, and everyone in the bar was still watching her – including Daryl despite his best efforts to do anything besides watch her.

She was good. Damn good. Beth Greene probably had the best singing voice of anyone he had ever heard before. What was she doing in this little town on this little stage, signing karaoke in some bar? She should have been in a stadium somewhere.

A couple of times, Daryl swore that Beth looked right at him though he knew that wasn't true. The bar was crowded that night. She could be looking at anyone. Why would he ever think it was him her eyes went to? He didn't give a shit what Merle said. In comparison to Daryl Dixon, Beth Greene was exactly that. An angel.

And no one like that looked at guys like him.

When she was done singing, the bar exploded with cheers and he could see her face blush from the attention and she gave everyone a smile before stepping down from the stage and heading straight towards the bar, where Maggie stood with her drink waiting for her.

Daryl made sure he was on the opposite side of the bar and made sure he stayed there for the entire time Beth and Maggie stood there before they headed towards a table to sit down.

…

As promised, Daryl took Sophia to the library and as she walked slowly up and down the history aisles, looking over the books – not wanting to ask for help just yet – Daryl stood nearby, looking at a bulletin board with fliers tacked to it, all printed on different colors of bright paper to try and get someone's attention first.

He could admit to himself that he was looking for a flyer for an anger management meeting. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he _had_ to do it. There was no way around it. He had been released – granted parole – because the parole board felt that if he attended an anger management class, he would successfully be completely rehabilitated and would never beat a guy into a coma again.

He saw flyers for a garage sale, a girl offering her services as a babysitter, someone was selling their car. There were NA meetings in the basement of one of the churches in town. But no anger management meetings.

What the hell? Was he the only guy in this town angry?

"Uncle Daryl," Sophia broke him from his thoughts and he instantly turned towards his step-niece to see her standing there with a thick book in her hand.

"Find somethin'?" He asked, taking the book she held out for him. He looked down at the cover and then looked to her with a raised eyebrow. "And you found this in the history section?" He asked.

Sophia grinned. "Yep."

Daryl lifted his eyes. Next to the history aisle was the romance aisle. He nearly smirked.

"I may have been locked up for a couple of years, but I ain't stupid, girl," Daryl said.

"I never said you were!" Sophia exclaimed, pretending to be aghast and Daryl couldn't help but smile; almost chuckling. "Look, Uncle Daryl." She pointed to a review that had been printed on the back cover. "Rich in _historical_ detail," she read.

"Your mom _and_ dad 'll both kill me if I let you check out _Outlander_ ," Daryl told her and then gently put his hand on her head, turning her back towards the history aisle. "If you wanna read Scottish history, we'll find you somethin'," he said.

"Have _you_ read _Outlander_?" Sophia asked as Daryl took the book and left it on the shelf.

Daryl wondered if he should answer that, but then he remembered that this was Sophia Peletier-Dixon and this girl was already tougher than most kids her age. "Yeah," he admitted. "Library in the prison had it and there were plenty of law books, but there weren't that many fiction books to choose from."

"So why can't I read it?" Sophia asked.

Daryl was suddenly glad he didn't have any kids of his own. He didn't know how Carol did this – telling Sophia what she could and could not do and why. He wondered how Merle had gotten any good at it because he and Daryl had the same exact childhood with the same parents and neither had been shining examples of how a mother or dad should be.

"'cause I'm jus' the uncle and what you read is up to your parents," he said. He scanned over the shelves. "Here. Try this one and we'll go from there." He took down _How the Scots Invented the Modern World_ and handed it to her. Sophia flipped through the pages and then hugged it to her chest, looking up at him with a smile, and again, Daryl felt himself smiling.

"What time period do you like reading about?" Sophia asked as they headed towards the circulation desk to check the book out.

Daryl opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, from the corner of his eye, he saw a head of blonde and whipping his head in the direction, sure enough, he saw Beth coming up the front steps of the library, heading for the front doors. Within seconds, she would see him and she would want to talk with him and Daryl didn't want that. He _couldn't_ want that. Days later and he still felt his fingers tingling as if they had fallen asleep and were waking up again from where they had touched for a millisecond at the highlighter exchange.

"Uncle Daryl?" Sophia asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

Daryl knew he was being ridiculous. He was completely aware of it, but he didn't care. He grabbed Sophia's hand and as gently as he could, he tugged her into the nearest row.

"What are we doing?" Sophia asked as Daryl crouched down a little and she followed suit.

"I'm… I'm hidin' from someone," Daryl answered truthfully.

Sophia looked at him with a frown. "You're a grown man, Uncle Daryl," she reminded him in a tone that sounded far beyond her years. "Who are you hiding from?"

Daryl was watching the aisle, waiting for Beth to pass by any second but she didn't and he wondered what row she had gone down; how far or nearby she was. But at Sophia's question, he turned his head and looked at her. The judgment was clear in her eyes and Daryl didn't blame her. He had been in prison, for fuck's sake, and had survived that. And if he could survive that, he could survive damn near anything.

Including a run-in with a woman.

But deep down, Daryl knew that that wasn't really true because he hardly knew her, but he already knew that Beth Greene wasn't just a woman.

He exhaled a deep breath. "Someone who scares the shit out of me."

…

* * *

 **I promise, Daryl and Beth will actually interact and talk with one another in the next chapter - and I'm super excited to write the idea from my head.**

 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to comment! I am going to post the song Beth sings on my tumblr because it's my jam and one of my favorite songs.**


	5. Chapter 5

…

 **Five.**

Feeling herself being slowly pulled out of her deep sleep, Beth took a moment for her eyes to flutter open and when they did, she saw that her bedroom was gray with early morning light and she heard the soft pitter-patter of raindrops on her roof and against her windows.

She laid there, burrowed beneath her sheets and goose-down comforter, and she smiled to herself as her eyes began sliding closed again. It was Saturday and she tried to think of things she loved more in this world than being warm in her bed, not having to get up and go anywhere, when it was raining outside and she could just lay there and listen to it fall.

She had been putting in so much work on the firm's latest case, Aiden had promised her that she could have this Saturday and Sunday without him calling her, wanting her to come into the office for a couple of hours. This weekend, she would have an actual weekend and Beth wondered if it would be acceptable for her to spend her entire Saturday right where she was right now, only getting up for the bathroom and to eat.

It sounded perfect to her even if she knew that she would never actually do it. She had things to do around the house. Laundry and dust and she couldn't remember the last time she had pulled her vacuum from her front closet and actually used it. Sunday was the day of rest. Saturday was the day to do all of her adult chores so she could actually rest tomorrow.

She actually desperately needed to go grocery shopping and doing that earlier in the morning was better than waiting until the afternoon when the store was packed with everyone else who had to wait until their weekends for a serious grocery shopping trip.

But she stayed in bed for just a few more minutes. She was warmly wrapped like a burrito and her bed was honestly one of her favorite places in the whole world.

"It's not like you do anything fun in bed," Maggie had commented once when Beth had said it and Beth had felt the back of her neck warm even as she rolled her eyes at her older sister. She didn't understand why nearly everything had to be about sex with Maggie.

"If you go to the grocery store this morning and then come home and do your laundry and clean up, you can be back in bed by four and stay here for the rest of the night," Beth told herself; almost as if she was making a bargain or promise with herself.

Feeling like it's a good plan, Beth pulled herself from the bed and first went to the bathroom to empty her bladder and wash her hands with her cranberry soap before going into the kitchen. She'd start a pot of coffee so it'd be brewed and ready when she got out of her shower.

She looked out the window over the sink.

What a rainy miserable day. And it seemed as if with the rain, fall rushed in overnight and her house felt chilly – especially now that she was out of her bed.

Once the coffee machine began brewing, Beth hurried to the thermostat on the wall and turned on the heat, setting it to a toasty temperature before hurrying into the bathroom so she could stand beneath the too-hot water for a little bit and wake herself up.

…

She loved the dresses and skirts she wore to work, but sometimes, she just wanted to wear jeans and her scuffed sneakers, which was exactly what Beth pulled on after her shower, as well as a black and white striped thin sweater. She dried her hair and then braided it, pinning it up around her head like a crown, and after brushing her teeth and filling her thermos with coffee, she was ready. The rain sounded as if it was falling even harder now, pounding down on her roof, and Beth was so tempted to scrap the whole trip, but she had made a promise to herself and really, today was the only day she had the actual time to go to the grocery store and take her time, wandering up and down each aisle.

Throwing on her raincoat, armed with her purse, keys and coffee, Beth bolted outside, making sure the front door was locked behind her before scurrying to her car. She let out a breathless laugh once inside and she listened to the rain on the car's roof. She loved rainy days – when she could stay inside and curl up with a blanket and a mug of hot chocolate overloaded with tiny marshmallows and she could be warm and dry as she listened to it fall. But she reminded herself that the sooner she got this shopping trip out of the way, the sooner she could get back home and she'd be back in bed before she knew it.

…

Just as she hoped, at this hour on a Saturday morning, the grocery store wasn't crowded. There were cars in the parking lot, but not as many as there would be later that day.

Again, Beth hurried from the car and ran towards the store's front automatic door, jumping over puddles and entering the store, laughing. She got a cart and putting her purse in the child's seat and keeping her thermos in her hand, she pushed towards the produce section.

As predicted, the store was quiet except for the Dean Martin song playing over the store's speakers and Beth hummed to herself as she stopped at the apples.

She saw him from the corner of her eye and she looked only to see if she was just imaging him. Beth knew it wouldn't be far-fetched if she actually was. She thought of the man often – whether she wanted to or not. She told herself not to. If the way he acted around her was any indication, Daryl Dixon definitely did not like her. Not even as a person who was looking to become potential friends with another person. Beth couldn't explain it, but sometimes, when she spent time in the bar, it almost seemed like Daryl would look at her and wish that she would be anywhere else in the world than there.

He didn't see her as he stood at the bananas and Beth needed bananas, too, but she would bypass the rest of the produce section for now and come back when she was finished with the rest of her shopping. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she was stalking him and she hated that she had a crush on him because if it was just some guy she knew, she'd be able to talk and joke with him and be absolutely comfortable as she was around everyone else. But she _did_ have a crush on Daryl and that rendered her a pathetic mess.

Making sure she kept her head turned as if she didn't see him, Beth pushed her cart past the produce section to head into the bakery. She'd get her bananas and carrots and lettuce later. No big deal. She wanted to make sure she got ahead of him anyway so if they did bump into each other later on in the store, he wouldn't think that she was following him.

Maggie said that once she turned thirty, any time she ate bread, she felt like she had just eaten a brick and now she stayed away from it as if it all bread products was some sort of rabid animal and she warned Beth that the same thing would probably happen to her, too. Beth could only hope that Maggie's "infliction" was in her head because Beth loved bread – absolutely loved it – and she couldn't imagine a life where she was unable to eat it. In her spare time, if she wasn't playing the piano or reading, she baked bread. It was her way of relaxing and what would be the point of baking it if she even couldn't eat it?

Beth took a plastic bag and the plastic tongs and opening up the plastic cabinet door, she was hit with the delightful smells of freshly baked rolls, buns, muffins and croissants. She began helping herself, picking out rolls and dropping them into her bag. Usually, for lunch, unless she went to T-Dog's food truck outside or to The Pine Cone for lunch meetings with Aiden, she brought a sandwich for lunch to eat.

Another Dean Martin song was playing – "Just in Time", which was one of her favorites – and Beth smiled and hummed along as she picked out six rolls; taking her time to do so.

"Hi."

She couldn't help but be startled at the unexpected greeting and her head whipped around to see that Daryl was standing there on the other side of the open plastic cabinet door.

She was aware of her mouth hanging open at the sight of him and she quickly snapped it closed and took a step back so the door could close.

"Hi," she remembered to say and was even able to throw him a small, warm smile. She nearly added an _I didn't see you_ , but Beth couldn't lie like that.

She still couldn't believe that _he_ had approached _her_ and had actually spoken first.

He must have just arrived a few minutes before her. He was carrying a basket as opposed to her cart and he had nothing in it except a bushel of bananas.

"How are you?" Beth asked, not too sure if she should carry on the conversation or if he was just going to say hello and be on his way. But he wasn't moving away so she took a chance.

"A'right," he shrugged.

He was looking at her like she remembered looking at one of her teachers when she saw them in a setting outside of the school. You were so used to seeing particular people in one setting, it could almost be surprising to be reminded that they had lives other than their interaction with you.

"How are you?" He then asked as if he remembered to do so.

Beth couldn't help but keep the same small smile across her lips. Being around Daryl, it made her want to smile. And she realized how silly of a little girl that probably made her, but at this moment, she wasn't going to dwell on it.

"I'm good," she answered. "It's the first actual weekend I've had off in a while so I'm pretty excited. I had to argue with myself to actually pull myself out of bed and get here though."

Daryl didn't move his eyes away from her and it was almost unsettling how he was looking at her. No one had ever looked at Beth so intently before and if they had, she couldn't remember them right now; not with Daryl looking at her.

When he didn't say anything, she glanced towards the bread cabinet and then back to him.

"Did you…" she trailed off and remembered her own bag of rolls. She quickly tied it off and then gingerly set it down in her cart.

Daryl looked towards the cabinet and she saw his brow furrow a little.

"The onion rolls are amazing here," she offered, hoping she didn't seem too obvious with her amusement. He was looking as if he had never seen so much bread before in his life.

Daryl glanced towards her before back to the cabinet. "Which ones are the onion rolls?" He asked, his eyes looking over the unmarked racks of bread. "I ain't… I've never had one," he then admitted and Beth gasped with excitement.

"Really?" She asked and couldn't help the beaming smile.

He looked back towards her.

She felt her cheeks warm. "I just love them and I'm a little excited," she admitted with her blush growing darker. Beth was fairly certain she had never been this stupid in front of a man before and she had no desire to know what he was thinking about her right then.

But Daryl stared at her for a long moment and then his lips quirked a little. "'s that all you've got there?" He asked, gesturing his head towards the bag of rolls in her cart.

"Yep," she said with a slight laugh in her voice. "My sister says I eat too much bread, but oh well…" she trailed off with a shrug.

Daryl was back to looking at her again as if he had never seen anyone quite like her before.

Beth had no idea whether that was a good thing or not.

He looked back towards the cabinets and then opened a door, taking one of the rolls that matched the ones in her bags, Beth noting that he didn't use the tongs, but he made sure his fingers came nowhere near to touching another roll.

"Think I can spare 69 cents," he said. "And if I hate it, I'll figure you'll take it off my hands."

"You got that right," Beth couldn't help but smile brightly up at him.

He gave the barest of smirks before he took his first bite of an onion roll and Beth watched him chew, wondering why this was so important to her. Maybe she was just so happy that he had actually come up to her first and had initiated a conversation and was still talking.

Beth knew there was no _maybe_ about it.

He chewed slowly for a moment and she watched him swallow. She tried not to watch the way his Adam's Apple bobbed down and then back up.

"Well?" She asked him after a moment.

Daryl gave his head a single nod. "'s good." He paused. "'s real good."

Beth's smile was instant. "Corned beef or salami from the deli and some mustard and you are all set," she informed him. Daryl had taken a plastic bag and was dropping three more rolls into it, but he paused to look at her. Again, she felt herself blushing. "I really love sandwiches," she then said, feeling an instant burst of embarrassment.

She sometimes wondered how it was possible for her and Maggie to be actually related. Maggie was so brave and forward and she _never_ blushed or grew shy when talking with a man. Beth, on the other hand, was such a disaster sometimes – as Maggie liked to point out to her on more than one occasion.

Beth wondered if she should just picture Aiden or Zach or any of her other male coworkers she saw every day and was able to speak with without blushing and stuttering and making a fool of herself.

Daryl was quiet for a moment, twisting the bag closed and dropping it into his basket. He then lifted his eyes and looked at her through the too-long hair that hung in his way.

"Would you have time to show me what else I need?" He asked.

For a moment, Beth wondered if she was actually still in her bed, imagining all of this as she listened to the rain fall on the roof above her head. And then for another moment, she wondered why Daryl was talking to her today when the other day, he had ripped his hand away the instant her fingers had touched him.

 _He just wants a sandwich_ , _Beth_ , she heard her sister's voice in her head.

"Of course," she smiled up at him and she could have sworn that he almost looked relieved with her answer. He has been tense, bracing, but now, she saw his shoulders visibly deflate, his entire body a bit more relaxed now. "Give me just a few more minutes," she said.

He nodded. "Take your time," he said and took a step back as if he was in her way.

Beth hurried past him to go get the rest of her produce.

…

The nice thing about having such a tiny house was it didn't take her that long at all to clean. She put away all of her grocers, dusted and straightened up and vacuumed and she did two loads of clothes and towels and by the end of it all, she felt pretty darn accomplished.

At five minutes after four, Beth made sure the front door was locked, she changed into her favorite pair of fleece pajamas with polar bears on them, fixed herself a corned beef and mustard sandwich on an onion roll, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and went into her bedroom. Just as she promised herself, she got between the sheets and arranged the down comforter over her and she had no plans on getting up again anytime soon. It had rained all day and it continued to do so, adding a chilly wind blowing against the walls of the house and there wasn't a place more in the world she wanted to be.

The grocery store had put her in a Dean Martin mood so she watched _Bells are Ringing_ on the television on her dresser and ate her sandwich and thought to herself that this was a pretty darn perfect Saturday night.

"You are wasting your life, Bethy," Maggie had told her last Sunday when they all gathered at the farm for a Sunday evening family dinner.

Beth frowned at her from across the table. "I'm twenty-seven, Maggie. God-willing, I have a _long_ life ahead of me. Just because I don't like going out-"

"It doesn't matter how old you are. You're not doing _anything_ with your life!"

"Maggie," Annette had given her a frown. "Beth went to law school. That is no small feat and she has an excellent job. She is doing what she _wants_ to do."

"People go to law school so they will actually take the bar exam so they'll be lawyers," Maggie said, but then her eyes had widened slightly as if she couldn't quite believe she had just said that out loud.

Both Annette and Hershel were silent as well – Hershel frowning at Maggie and Annette looking at Beth with a worried crease between her brows, wondering what she would do.

And Beth didn't say or do anything. She simply put her knife and fork on her plate even though she still had plenty of chicken and rice to eat and without a word, she stood up from the table and went out the back door, heading towards the barn to see the horses.

Maggie had come out a little bit later and she had apologized and Beth had forgiven her because Beth always did. Maggie always said something without thinking, hurting Beth's feelings, but then she would apologize and Beth would say it was alright and it was always the same between the two. They had these unspoken roles between them and it was as if they were on stage, in the middle of performing a play, and they never went off script.

Beth wondered if Maggie ever got tired of it, but Maggie did seem to love her role of constantly voicing her opinions of how Beth's life was all wrong.

Beth felt herself drift off sometime around six and an hour later, her cell phone was ringing.

The movie's main menu was on the screen and Beth lifted the remote and turned the television off as she reached for her phone. Maggie.

Beth thought it over for a moment before she hit the decline button and set her phone down. She refused to feel guilty about that but as she got up from the bed to take her plate and empty water bottle back to the kitchen, she thought of Maggie at The Pine Cone tonight and she knew that Daryl would be working. He was always working.

She wondered if he had had a sandwich for lunch and if he had liked it.

…

It wasn't as if Aiden thought there was anything wrong with the conference room in the offices of Harris & Monroe since technically, it was _his_ conference room. He just didn't feel all that comfortable working on this case within the walls of the office with so many ears around, capable of hearing all sorts of things they shouldn't be privy to. And yes, The Pine Cone was a public place, but when he and Beth went – it was usually after the usual lunch hour and no one was in the bar except for those who worked there and one or two guys, who sat on their stools and couldn't care less about Beth and Aiden and what they were talking about in their booth, surrounded with papers.

And honestly, even though he wouldn't tell Beth this, Aiden was so damn amused with her crush on the bartender there. She always smiled and her face got noticeably flushed whenever the guy was around and Aiden, more than once, had to purse his lips together and turn his head away so he didn't start laughing right then and there.

Today was a little different though. They were having a meeting with their client, Phillip Blake, and Phillip didn't want it in the offices of Harris & Monroe and when Aiden suggested The Pine Cone, the man had agreed.

The meeting was set for two and Beth and Aiden arrived there first. Carol, one of the owners, smiled and showed them to what had become their usual booth.

"We're going to have one more joining us today, Carol," Aiden told her. "Would it be possible to keep from too many other people coming in for the next couple of hours? I'll pay."

Carol's eyes sparked with curiosity – wondering who the third person would be – but then she looked. Besides herself and brother-in-law standing behind the bar where he usually was, Aiden could see Merle in his office, the door open and there was one another patron, sitting on a stool and working on a crossword puzzle as he drank a beer. Joe was one of their regulars and one of Merle's old friends and was harmless. He didn't care about anything besides himself so Carol couldn't imagine him caring about some meeting happening in the bar today if it didn't concern him.

"Let's go talk with Merle," Carol said and Aiden nodded, following her towards the office.

Beth took the bag from off her shoulder and taking off her coat, she hung it on the hook on the wall and slid into the booth. Less than thirty seconds passed before Daryl came.

"You want somethin' to drink?" Daryl asked. "The usual?"

Beth paused. She had met Mr. Blake a couple of times before this, but she still felt nervous. He was a powerful man and had the presence that reminded everyone of that fact when they were in the same space as him. Aiden and him would be doing all of the talking today – Beth was just the note taker – but still, just the idea of sitting across from him was making her stomach knot itself to the point of almost being painful.

"Could I have a Coke?" She asked, tilting her head up to look at him. She wished she knew how to read this man because right now, she could have sworn that he almost looked concerned. For her. "And, um, just a splash of something else? What goes well with Coke?"

"Everythin' alright?" He asked her.

She did her best to nod while giving him a smile. "Just need to calm my nerves. Important meeting with an important client," she told him.

"I'll fix you somethin'," he replied.

"Thank you, Daryl," she said and he stayed for another moment more, looking at her – just as he had looked at her in the grocery store; as if she was something different and interesting – before he turned and headed back towards the bar.

Aiden was coming out of Merle's office and stopped Daryl on his way, ordering his own drink, and Daryl nodded, continuing on his way.

Phillip Blake – Georgia Statesman running for State Governor that year – entered The Pine Cone a few minutes later with his bodyguard behind him – a tall, lean man with a greying beard and salt and pepper hair.

"Statesman Blake," Aiden stood up, approaching the man with a smile and outstretched hand and Beth stood up as well, smoothing down the skirt of her dress.

"Aiden," Phillip smiled, shaking his hand. He then looked to Beth. "Ms. Greene," he smiled at her and shook her hand as well.

Beth was honestly surprised that he remembered the name of Aiden's paralegal. "Beth, please," she told the Statesman, all the while with him still smiling.

His smile did nothing to calm her nerves though. It was an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes. Perhaps it was a politician's smile.

"And this is my bodyguard, Negan," Phillip turned to the man still standing near the door and the man stepped towards them now that he had been mentioned. "He goes where I go. Especially now with this whole shit storm."

Negan's smile was wide, exposing perfect white teeth, and the corners of his eyes crinkled and he seemed to be finding this whole thing pretty amusing; as if he knew the punch line to the joke no one had told yet.

"Negan, my lawyer, Aiden Monroe, and the paralegal, Beth Greene," Phillip introduced.

Negan and Aiden shook hands and then, Negan turned that smile on Beth. She did her best to return it and she admitted, deep down, that he had a very nice smile. He shook her hand and his thumb rubbed in a circle on her skin and she wasn't imagining him doing that.

Somehow, Beth managed to keep smiling and she hoped it wasn't obvious when she slid her hand from his. She refrained from wiping it on her dress. Negan gave her a quick wink and she was very well aware that the man was flirting with her. And it wasn't as if he wasn't a handsome man. He was actually a _very_ handsome man and normally, Beth imagined that she would have been flattered, but not right now. Probably not ever.

His smile was too wide. Beth looked at it and missed that almost not-even-there smirk that belonged on another man's face.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading! I hope you liked this one. Please take a moment to leave me a review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you a million times to all of those who read and enjoy my stories. Got a nasty flame today and I can't seem to stop thinking about it so I'm trying to focus on the dozens more kind reviews that you guys always leave for me. I can't thank you enough for this. I hope you enjoy the newest chapter.**

* * *

…

 **Six.**

Daryl had just taken the pack of corned beef and the package of muenster cheese – he had recently discovered he loved muenster cheese from Beth's suggestion at the deli counter in the grocery store – from the refrigerator and was getting ready to fix himself a sandwich on one of his onion rolls when someone knocked on his door.

If it was Merle, Carol or Sophia, they liked to knock and call out his name at the same time. And since the person just knocked and then stayed quiet, Daryl had no idea who it could be. No one besides those three ever came and saw him up here. He didn't know anyone who would want to come see him in his apartment. Who would want to come see him at all?

When he opened his door, Daryl wasn't necessarily surprised to find that it was Shane. He was wearing his gold badge around his neck and he gave Daryl a smile.

"S'up, Daryl?" He asked, friendly.

"Hey." Daryl stepped back and opened the door wider. "Was jus' about to make a sandwich. You wan' one?" He offered.

"No, thanks. Ate before I came," Shane said, still smiling. He closed the door and then looked around the apartment. "Real nice place," he commented.

Daryl nodded, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He didn't feel nervous. There was no reason for him to. He had nothing to hide. Hell, he didn't even own that much, let alone drugs or guns or something else illegal that he wasn't supposed to have.

Merle always hated when his parole officers visited him and the man would rant and rave once the officer left and would kick things around and moan about how this was a violation of his rights; even though once he had committed the crime and was convicted, he lost any rights he had ever had and no amount of bitching about it would get anything to change.

Daryl saw no point in being offended that Shane had dropped by for a home visit. Man was just doing his job.

"Do me a favor and just sit over there while I'm doin' this," Shane said, looking towards the futon. "I know you're not gonna flush somethin', but I can't have you walkin' around while I'm doin' this."

Daryl nodded and without saying anything – least of all, a protest – he headed towards the futon and sat down and waited as Shane first moved to the kitchen. He opened up all of the cabinets and the refrigerator. He even stuck his hand down the garbage disposal in case Daryl had stashed something down there to hide.

Shane then moved into the living room – and though there were only three pieces of furniture: the futon, coffee table and television stand with the TV on it – again, he checked every possible crevice. Sophia had left one of her schoolbooks on the coffee table and Shane even flipped through that, shaking out the pages in case something was stuck inside.

Daryl remained on the futon as Shane headed down the little hallway that led to the bathroom and the bedroom. Those rooms took a little longer to go through, but Daryl could hear him moving around, opening cabinets and the little hallway linen closet and the closet in his bedroom. Daryl could imagine him lifting his mattress off the floor to look under it.

Shane entered the living room again a few minutes later. "All good," he said and Daryl took that as he could stand up again so he did.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Daryl asked.

"That's what I'm here for," Shane said and he had a clipboard in his hand and was writing some notes down to himself; probably of what he found which was a whole lot of nothing.

"I know 's considered a weapon so I'm not able to have it, but…" Daryl trailed off then and he wasn't too sure how to ask this or even why he was bothering trying to ask it in the first place. "My crossbow…" was all he was able to get out.

He missed it so damn much. He could still take walks out in the woods when he just wanted to be on his own – which was practically all the damn time – but his hands missed the weight of his crossbow in his hands. He missed being able to hunt and provide food for himself. He had been tracking and hunting ever since he was a little kid and not being able to anymore, a part of him didn't even feel like himself anymore.

Shane didn't have to think about it. He shook his head, but he did so with a sigh. "'m sorry, man. Not for another year and not until you take an anger management course."

Daryl knew that that would be the answer, but he couldn't help but still be disappointed and little angry that he wouldn't be able to own a crossbow for another year – and only if the state of Georgia allowed him to. He had beaten a man with his fists. It wasn't as if he had shot him with a bolt.

"I've been lookin', but I can't find one around here," Daryl said.

Shane didn't say anything. He looked back to his clipboard and unclipped the papers he had there, taking one from the bottom of the small stack. He held it out and Daryl took a step forward, taking it.

"It's run out of the basement at a nearby church," Shane said. "Knew you were havin' trouble findin' one. Hershel's a good man and you won't be the first con he works with."

Daryl looked down at the flier for anger management meetings in the basement of the Ridge Baptist Church every Tuesday night at six.

"Thanks," Daryl said, swallowing, giving a nod.

"Alright. I'm headin' out," Shane said, heading towards the door. "Enjoy your sandwich and get yourself some real furniture, for God's sake."

…

"You don't mind?" Daryl asked.

"Hell, no, I don't mind," Merle frowned at him. "Why would I? This is what you gotta do to keep the state happy. You go to your meetin's and me or Carol'll tend the bar on Tuesdays. No big deal," he finished with a shrug.

"Thanks, Merle," Daryl said quietly and Merle clapped a firm hand on his shoulder.

Daryl left the kitchen then with the basket of mozzarella sticks and he carried them to the end of the bar, where Beth was sitting on her usual stool. For once though, she didn't have her laptop in front of her. Tonight, instead, she had a few manila file folders in front of her and was reading papers, making the occasional highlighting mark.

It was quiet that night in The Pine Cone with just the regulars. A Van Morrison song was playing from the jukebox, a couple guys were playing a game of pool and the television on the wall was turned to some late-season baseball game. It seemed like midterms were coming up for the college kids and Daryl figured they had decided to act like responsible people and study for them rather than be at the bar, giving him a headache and spilling their drinks all over the place.

Beth had come in about just about ten minutes earlier, ordering the mozzarella sticks and her usual Shirley Temple, and Daryl had been quick to get her both. He hadn't seen her for a few days – not since that meeting she and her boss had had in here with those two men who Daryl didn't like just on sight alone. There was something about them. He had seen plenty of bad guys, but there was something about those two guys.

Daryl had never liked politicians and Phillip Blake did nothing except remind him of why. The guy had walked in like he owned the damn place and standing behind the bar, Daryl had done his best not to pay attention – he really didn't care – but he couldn't keep himself from lifting his eyes every few minutes to look at Beth as she took small sips of her whiskey and Coke that he had mixed her. She was nervous and Daryl knew that she was trying to hide it from the men around her and Daryl saw the way that Beth kept her eyes down, taking notes, and the way the other men acted as if she wasn't even there.

Well, Beth's boss seemed preoccupied with the client and Phillip Blake seemed to be talking nonstop, talking with Aiden – Daryl had learned his name from Merle – and only Aiden. Beth would occasionally lean in and whisper something to Aiden and Aiden would give a nod and then ask Phillip whatever it was that Beth wanted to know.

Daryl wouldn't be surprised if Phillip wouldn't listen to Beth if she asked him herself.

And then Phillip's bodyguard, Negan, and the way he had done nothing _but_ stare at Beth, Daryl had to remind himself that he was just out of prison, on parole, for beating a man and he didn't want to do it again and he had promised to himself he would never go back to prison. And that meant clenching his jaw so tight, his teeth ached and distracting himself with wiping the bar down every five minutes.

"Here you go," Daryl said, setting her food down.

Beth let out a sigh and set her highlighter down immediately. "Thank God," she said and lifted her head, giving him a smile. "Do you ever just really hate your job?" She then asked.

"Pretty sure when it's karaoke night in here, 's one of Dante's nine levels of Hell for me," he replied and when she let out a laugh at that, his lips twitched a little.

"Which one though?" She asked as she picked up the first mozzarella stick and then with her other hand, she took a napkin and spread it across her lap.

"Prob'ly either the anger or the violence one," he shrugged.

"I never would have thought you read Dante's Inferno," she admitted and he could see her blush a little as if embarrassed she had said that to him. " _Not_ that you look like a guy who doesn't read books like that or anything. I just have found that reading seems to be a lost pastime," she then hurriedly explained.

Daryl felt a little amused at how she was so quick to assume that she had insulted him.

He shrugged. "I read a lot," he said.

As he had told Sophia, there wasn't a hell a lot of other things to do when living in a cell the size of a closet. He supposed that was actually the one good thing that had happened to him, being locked up. He felt like now, maybe, he was a lot smarter than when he went in.

His simple words made Beth smile. It was the same smile she gave him in the grocery store when she talked about her love for onion rolls.

This was the kind of girl who just seemed to be happy about so many different things in the world. She worked in Law and probably did so because she saw the world as this beautiful place and wanted to keep it being that way.

Daryl knew he was never like that. He thought the woods were beautiful; the sun rising through the trees on an early morning was beautiful; an unsuspecting doe standing at a creek. And Beth. Beth was beautiful. too. But other than that, there was no reason why Daryl – especially a Dixon – would ever think that this world was more than what this world had given him in return. Nothing but shit.

"What do you like to read?" Beth asked.

Daryl found himself glancing down the rest of the bar, making sure that none of the other patrons needed him at the moment, before he leaned back against the ledge of the liquor shelf behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched as she bit into one of the mozzarella sticks and even as she chewed, Daryl swore that she was still smiling with her eyes. Daryl had never seen a person who smiled as much as this girl.

He knew he didn't have a shot with her and if she ever found out the whole truth about him, the last thing she would ever think about was him or want anything to do with him. But he admitted to himself that he liked talking with her; getting to know more about her. Seeing her smile.

"All sorts of things, I guess," he answered with a slight shrug. "Really like Jack London."

"I think I read _Call of the Wild_ in high school," Beth said. "I read a lot, too," she then said.

"What do you like to read?" Daryl asked her the question back.

"Hmmmm," Beth thought that over as she took another bite of her mozzarella stick.

"Your law books?" He asked her with a slight smirk and she laughed a little at that.

"Yep. That's all I read. And I watch nothing except _Law and Order_ ," she joked and Daryl felt himself smirking a bit more. "I actually love Ernest Hemingway."

Daryl must have been making a face, because she was taking a sip of her drink and she smiled at him from around the rim of her glass.

"You didn't expect that?" She asked.

"Not really," he answered honestly. "Thought you were more of a…"

"Harlequin girl?" She asked, the tease in her voice evident. "That's the most offensive thing you could say to me," she then said and Daryl felt himself tense.

He pushed himself off the ledge he leaned against and opened his mouth to apologize despite his mind being a complete blank right now, but then Beth began to laugh and he felt like he was breathing again.

"I'm teasing you, Daryl," she told him as if her laughing didn't clue him in.

"Don't do that," he muttered with a frown.

Beth paused to take a sip of her Shirley Temple. "Tease you?"

"Scare me," he muttered again with the same frown and he said it so low, he didn't know if she heard him. But he saw the way her eyes widened slightly and he knew that she had.

Beth looked at him and her laughter faded from her eyes and the smile slipped from her lips. "I'm sorry, Daryl," she said then and she said it so sincerely, Daryl found himself feeling like a dick for making her even feel like she had to apologize. "I also love Susanna Kearsely. She's not Harlequin, but she does write romance novels. Historical romance."

From the corner of his eye, Daryl could see Joe at the other end of the bar, holding up his empty glass, and Daryl looked back to Beth.

"I've never read her," Daryl said. Never even heard of her.

Beth gave him a small smile then and he began taking steps away to go see to the other patrons at the bar and she picked up her highlighter once again to get back to work. Daryl realized that he didn't really want to stop their conversation, but Joe was still holding up his empty glass and another guy had come up with an empty pitcher, looking for a refill on his beer. Daryl had to get back to work, too.

Merle had been right. Talk to her like an actual human being and Daryl found himself not really wanting to stop.

…

The next day, he took Sophia back to the library and he left her in the teen fiction aisle and Daryl went to the computer system. He actually didn't know how to use a computer. He was always too poor to have one and he had never cared enough about to find a means to learn. And it wasn't like he could learn when locked up.

He stood in front of the screen for a few seconds, a furrow in his brow.

"What are you doing?" Sophia asked, appearing at his side.

"Hell if I know," Daryl grunted.

"That's obvious," she teased and Daryl narrowed his eyes at her, making her giggle. She stepped up beside him and bumped him with her hip. He took a step aside and Sophia took his place, standing in front of the computer. She hit a key and the screen went from black to white. "Alright. What are you looking for?" She asked him.

"Don't know."

"You have an author or subject?" She asked.

"Susanna Kearsley," Daryl was able to provide.

He watched as Sophia hit the keys with expertise and she typed in the author's name in the author's blank field and then hit enter. Daryl leaned in when he saw the results pop up.

"They have two of her books in this branch," Sophia informed him. She took a small slip of paper from the available pad next to the keyboard and a tiny pencil from the cup and wrote down the number of where the books were located. "Come on," she then said, heading towards the adult fiction shelves and Daryl followed after her.

"Can you teach me how to use one of those things?" He asked her.

"Of course," Sophia answered and she did so in such a way that Daryl thought that to her, there was no other answer to give.

He followed her down the aisle and she slowed as her fingertips skimmed across the spines of the books, looking for the two numbers on the slip of paper in her hand.

"Top shelf," she then informed him.

Daryl found the author's name and took down the two books, looking down at their covers. Sophia peered at them, too, and then looked at Daryl with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you reading romance novels now, Uncle Daryl?" She then asked and he saw the amusement creep across her face. He put a hand on top of her head and physically turned her the way they had come.

"Le's go get checked out," he said and Sophia giggled.

At the circulation desk, Sophia handed her library card over to the librarian. "My uncle needs a library card," she then informed the older woman.

The librarian smiled. "If you would like to get a library card, just bring a copy of a utility bill so we can verify you're a resident of the city," she said to Daryl.

Daryl didn't say anything. He simply gave a nod and the librarian slid their books back to them and Daryl took them and followed her out of the library.

"You need a library card and a bank account," Sophia said as they began walking back towards The Pine Cone, just a couple blocks away from this branch of the city's library.

"Why?" He asked.

Sophia shrugged and hopped over an uneven bit of sidewalk. "You're out now, Uncle Daryl, and people not in prison have library cards and bank accounts."

Daryl wasn't too sure what to say to that because it wasn't the craziest thing he had ever heard. It just was something he had never thought of and he wondered why his twelve-year-old niece thought about it and cared.

"So who's Susanna Kearsley?" Sophia asked, changing the subject in the rapid way that she sometimes did.

"Was recommended to me by someone," Daryl answered. "Thought I might check her out."

They came up on the back of The Pine Cone and Daryl reached past Sophia to open the door that led into the kitchen. Merle was in there as he usually was, wearing his white apron, and coating pieces of fish in flour before slowly and with care, dropping them in the deep fryer.

Sophia left her own library book on the counter next to the back door and then hurried to don her own apron. It was decided that on Tuesday evenings when Daryl had to go to his anger management meetings, Merle would cook as he always did, Carol would tend the bar and not wanting Sophia to be at home by herself, she would stick in the kitchen and help Merle cook the food – which was alright because she wasn't in the actual bar area. Merle had actually already called the Sherriff in the area to make sure that it was alright.

"Hey, better get goin', lil' brother," Merle said, wiping his hands on his apron before helping Sophia tie hers on. "That is not somethin' you wanna be late for."

Daryl looked to the clock on the wall. The meeting was at six and it was just a little bit after five. This was the last thing he wanted to do tonight – or ever – but it wasn't like he had a choice in all of this. He had made his choice years earlier and this was his punishment. It seemed like his punishment for his one mistake was never ending.

Maybe he could go to schools and talk to kids about not fucking up their entire lives. He wished someone had talked to him. But if he was being honest with himself, if someone had come to him when he was a kid and tried to talk to him about anything, he would have told them to fuck off before doing whatever he wanted. And doing whatever he wanted was why he was here – about to go to some meeting about his anger and being the state's bitch for the next one or two years and there was no way for him to get out of any of it.

Because even after he got through this next year or two, Daryl knew there was no way he ever be able to really get away from it.

…

Shane must have called this Hershel guy ahead of time to let the man know that Daryl was coming, because when he came down the steps that led into the basement of the Ridge Baptist Church, a man who looked like Santa Claus approached him with a warm smile.

"You must be Daryl," he said. "I'm Hershel and I run this group."

Daryl cleared his throat. "Nice to meet you." He shook Hershel's extended hand. "Um, do you…" he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper that Shane had given him at his first appointment with him. "Do you sign this now or…?"

Hershel kept smiling. "After. If I sign it first, you all would never stay for the meeting."

Daryl didn't find an argument with that. He just slipped the paper back into his pocket.

There were six metal chairs in a circle and there were two women and four men, including Hershel, and they all sat down once Hershel did. Daryl found himself sitting next to him and one of the women sat on his other side.

"Alright," Hershel began. "We have a someone new joining us tonight. This is Daryl. Daryl, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself? Everyone here will understand more than you think."

Daryl looked at him, wondering what he exactly meant by that. "Uh…" he sat up a little and began slowly wiping his palms on the thighs of his jeans as if sweaty. He hated talking like this in front of anyone – especially people he had just met. "'m Daryl and 'm a bartender over at The Pine Cone. And I…" he glanced over at Hershel.

There was something about the old man. Daryl had just met him and yet, Hershel was already looking at him as if he liked him. And in return, Daryl found himself thinking that maybe he could trust this man for some reason. And that was a damn foreign feeling to him because Daryl trusted one person in this world and that had always been his brother. But something about the way Hershel looked at him and gave him that welcoming smile, Daryl found himself not feeling as nervous as he thought he would feel.

 _Everyone here will understand more than you think._

"And I… I jus' got out after servin' a two year sentence for assault," Daryl finished.

No one in the room seemed surprised about that. Shane had mentioned that Daryl wouldn't be the first con Hershel worked with. Did that mean everyone in here had served time, too?

"Who'd you beat up?" A large black man sitting across from him asked.

"Jus' a guy," Daryl said.

"I got six for whaling on my neighbor," the man told him as if he had asked.

The man sitting next to the black man grinned and looked to Daryl. "He beat him up with one of those plastic Christmas candy cane decorations people decorate their house with."

"I hated that guy," the black man muttered.

"Oscar," Hershel said with a slight frown. "Just last week, you were able to admit the real reason you assaulted your neighbor and it wasn't because you hated him. What was the reason?"

The man, Oscar, shifted in his seat as he was nervous of a man easily thirty years older than him. He then sighed. "He wouldn't stop blaring _Little Drummer Boy_. I hate that song."

"Because you got angry and weren't able to control yourself," Hershel said as if reminding him. "It wasn't because you hated anything." Oscar didn't say anything but somehow, the large man was actually able to look sheepish. Hershel then looked to Daryl. "Now the man you assaulted, Daryl, why do you think you did that?"

Daryl thought about it for a moment; as if he hadn't thought enough about it over the past couple of years.

"I hated him," he answered quietly, staring down at his hands.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take moment to review!**

 **Just a couple of random notes:**

 **Ernest Hemingway, Susanna Kearsley and Jack London are my favorites so I'm making them Daryl and Beth's favorites, too. Also, I imagine this to take place in a large town/little city of around about 20,000 people - so not everyone would know everyone's business - unlike the other little towns I write about in my other Bethyl stories.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Yay! My muse has returned for this story and I absolutely love this chapter. I hope you do, too, and thank you for being patient with an update. My muse can be such a fickle thing sometimes.**

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…

 **Seven.**

Stupid rain. Stupid _freezing_ rain. Stupid skirt and heels and stupid freezing rain.

Beth raced from her car, across the parking lot and up the steps of the judicial building, her umbrella keeping her head dry, but doing nothing to help her poor, bare legs as she ran and the puddles splashed at her. This was _not_ in the weather report when she checked it this morning – as she did so every morning. The forecast had showed that it would be partly cloudy with only a ten-percent chance of rain. It mentioned absolutely _nothing_ about freezing rain and not for the first time, Beth thought that weather people on the morning news had the absolute easiest job in the world. The whole thing was just a guessing game.

"Thanks, Mitch," Beth smiled at the usual security guard as he held the door open for her.

"Get yourself some hot chocolate, Beth," Mitch suggested and she smiled at the kind, older man, who had been a guard here for as long as she had been coming here and for many years before that. He used to be a police officer for the city, but after he got shot on duty, he decided to retire from the force and take a job that didn't hold as much danger.

"Thanks, Mitch," she said again as she closed up her umbrella and shook it off before setting her personal items down and setting through the metal detector.

She stepped through without setting the alarm off and she gathered her things again. A cup of hot chocolate sounded absolutely perfect, but first, she had to get these papers filed. She didn't like this case. Didn't like it one bit. She just got a feeling that maybe the woman was telling the truth. That Phillip Blake, when he was the Mayor of their town before becoming a Statesman, brutally assaulted this woman in a hotel room. Beth just had a feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she felt her hands tied. Her firm was defending the accuse. The accuser had another attorney and it was Beth's job to help Aiden prove them both wrong.

It took her some time to file all of the motions that she had been tasked with and once that was done, she was still cold from the rain outside and now, her stomach was grumbling. She looked to the big clock hanging from the wall in the building's front lobby and saw that it was just a little before noon. Perfect timing.

Heading down the main stairs, she went towards the lunch counter and smiled at Karen, the usual waitress who worked there.

"Hi, Beth," Karen smiled in return. "Nasty out there today."

"Tell me about it. Stupid weatherman," she grumbled and Karen laughed. "Can I get a mug of hot chocolate and a bowl of the chicken noodle soup?"

"You got it, hon," Karen quickly pressed the buttons on the cash register and Beth handed her some bills from her purse. "Go and get yourself settled and I'll bring it to you."

Beth chose a booth against the back wall beneath one of the large circle windows, setting her purse and bag beside her, against the wall. She could hear the rain fall on the roof and she sighed. She was in absolutely no hurry whatsoever to get back out there. Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed Aiden's office phone, but it immediately went to voice mail, letting her know that he was already on the phone. She left him a message, saying that all of the motions had been filed and she was taking her lunch break now before returning to the office for the rest of the afternoon.

When she was finishing up the message, Karen appeared with a mug of hot chocolate with steam dancing into the air and a deep bowl of the lunch counter's homemade chicken noodle soup with a thick slice of bread next to it. Steam rose from the bowl as well and it hit Beth in the face and she instantly felt warm.

"You're the best," Beth smiled up at her.

Karen laughed again. "Just let me know if you need anything else," she said before going back to return behind the counter.

Beth pulled the book she was in the middle of reading from her bag and once she arranged everything in front of her, she began reading and taking her first sip of soup. Instantly, she felt it hot, rushing down her throat and she was aware that it was almost _too_ hot, but she didn't care because her feet were still cold and she needed to be scorching right now.

Her slice of bread was gone and her mug of hot chocolate and bowl of soup was half empty and she had just begun a new chapter when she heard her name.

"Beth?"

Beth instantly lifted her head to see who it was and she suddenly hated that she had decided to choose being dry and warm over racing out of the building into the freezing rain as soon as she finished what she had come there to do.

She did her best to give her most genuine smile; as if she was truly happy to be interrupted during her lunch break by _him_ , of all people.

Their city was a small one in comparison to others, but still large enough where certainly not everyone knew each other and it wasn't small enough where people were constantly running into each other. This was the very first time she had seen him since high school graduation and she wondered why she was seeing him here, in the judicial building, of all places. Maybe he had a parking ticket he was taking care of or maybe something more than that. Maybe he had been arrested for murder and he was out on a bail and was meeting with his lawyer to discuss his case.

Yes, she knew that was far-fetched and slightly ridiculous but still, she dared to dream.

"Hi, Jimmy," Beth smiled, closing her book after taking note of which page she was on.

For the first time, she noticed that Jimmy wasn't alone. A woman with copper-toned red hair and a slightly taller frame than Jimmy's – which was impressive because Jimmy was as tall and lanky as he had been, years before in high school – stood a little bit behind him as if she didn't want to intrude.

"Hey," Jimmy smiled, looking relieved, and Beth wondered if he thought that she would have thrown her bowl of soup into his face. He certainly would have deserved it and it was amazing to Beth that he seemed to recognize that. The Jimmy from years past wouldn't.

Beth and Jimmy Hines had dated from the time they were freshmen until they were seniors, almost graduating to head off to college, and during their junior and senior years, Jimmy began asking her about sex. Asking when they would have it. Asking her if she was ready. And Beth had told him more than once that she just wasn't ready for it. Honestly, she hadn't imagined herself having sex before marriage and she told that to Jimmy because they went to the same church and surely, he would understand her stance on the matter.

But he didn't and he used every line in the book to try and convince her that there was nothing wrong with them having sex at their age. Beth still sometimes wondered if she had finally had sex with Jimmy just to shut him up. It had been terrible – uncomfortable and painful – and when it was done after just a couple of minutes, Beth had hated herself. She felt a heavy weight crushing in her chest that made her want to cry because she hadn't stood up for herself and she had given in and done something she hadn't wanted and hadn't been entirely ready to do.

Afterwards, Jimmy had driven her back to the farm, stopping off at McDonald's and buying her an egg McMuffin – though she wasn't hungry in the least – and two days later, he had proceeded to dump her, saying things that she couldn't remember anymore. Beth knew she hadn't loved him – which made the whole sleeping with him anyway even worse to her – but still, having him end their relationship right after she lost her virginity to him, it had crushed her and it had taken her years to get over it.

There had been another boyfriend, finally, in law school, but it had been more for companionship than anything – a constant study partner and someone to watch movies with on Saturday nights – and he seemed to be in agreement. Beth was pretty sure she was just a cover for him, anyway, since she was fairly certain that he was gay, but he wasn't ready to come out to his parents yet.

She had never told Maggie – or anyone – what happened between her and Jimmy so when Maggie went on and on about Beth having more fun – which meant, having more sex – Beth just let her talk, ignoring her and having absolutely no plans to ever follow Maggie's advice.

"How are you?" Jimmy asked.

"I'm good. And you?" Beth wondered if she should stand up, but maybe that would just have him think that she wanted this conversation to go on for longer than absolutely necessary. Plenty of years had passed since high school, and she never thought about Jimmy Hines anymore, but that didn't mean that she wanted to talk with him.

"Real good," Jimmy smiled easily at that. "I'm getting married."

Beth admitted that she wasn't positive as to what her reaction to that should be, but she smiled nonetheless. It had been years. She certainly wasn't jealous that an ex-boyfriend from forever ago was getting married, but she admitted that she didn't know if she was happy either. Indifference was probably the best word.

"We just came here to get our marriage license," Jimmy said, looking back towards the redhead and smiled at her before looking back to Beth.

"Congratulations, Jimmy," Beth said, smiling and all the while hoping that he didn't ask if she was married or seeing anyone. "When's the big day?" She heard herself ask even though she had no idea why she would and Jimmy smiled, please that she had asked. She was too darn polite; that's what her problem was.

"This Saturday," he answered. "Mandy's not religious so we're not getting married in the church. We found this great spot in Sherman Park for the ceremony."

"That sounds lovely," Beth said because she wasn't too sure what else to say and she made a note to stay _far_ away from Sherman Park that weekend.

"Well," Jimmy said and shifted a little on his feet. "I saw your dad the other day. He said that you've been real busy with work."

Beth wondered how long this conversation would go on for.

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm a paralegal and we just got a big case at the firm I'm helping with."

"That's great!" He answered a bit too enthusiastically and he seemed to realize that because Beth saw him visibly cringe and she pursed her lips together to keep from laughing.

Past Jimmy, something caught her attention though she wasn't sure why it would. Someone, among all of the other people, stepped into the lunch counter area and Beth's throat immediately leaped into her chest.

Daryl.

She felt as if she hadn't seen him for years though it had just been a few days before when they had been talking about books and she had learned that he was quite a bookworm. She wasn't the sort to usually make assumptions about people, but finding out that Daryl was so well-read, she admitted that it _had_ taken her by surprise.

And as if he felt her eyes on him, he turned his head from looking over the menu that hung on the wall and found her instantly. His face, as it usually was, seemed blank so she couldn't tell if he was surprised to see or not. She wondered if he would turn and leave now that he knew she was there. Most of the time, he seemed like being around her for any amount of time seemed like the very last thing he wanted. There was something about her that he didn't like – and that was obvious – but she just had no idea what it was about herself that seemed to bother him as much as it clearly did.

Beth did her best to be herself and be at ease while around him, but in the back of her mind, there was always that tiny voice reminding her that he didn't like her and he was only talking with her because she sat at his bar and it was his job.

Seeing him looking at her, she gave him the smallest of smiles before looking back up to Jimmy. She didn't want Daryl to think that she was just assuming he would come and speak with her now that he had seen her. It had been so long since she had had a crush on a man and she had forgotten how unsure and nerve-wracking it could be when the object of her crush was anywhere near her.

She had had a crush on one of her professors in law school. He had been in his mid-forties with prematurely graying hair and a gray beard and he wore these thick cable knit sweaters to class in the winters and Beth would sit there, taking diligent notes and listening intently all the while imagining herself wearing one of his sweaters and nothing else.

For the entire semester, any time she was in his lecture or saw him somewhere on campus and he greeted her with her name and a smile, Beth felt her face explode in red.

It couldn't have possibly been a secret to the man that Beth had a crush on him, and Beth wondered if she was just as obvious now while around Daryl. She hoped not. Plenty of women went to The Pine Cone and Daryl was a handsome man who could probably have his pick of any of them if he so choose to do something like that. Beth would never expect him to show any interest in the girl who blushed too easily and ordered Shirley Temples like she was still some teenager.

"It was good to see you, Beth," Jimmy said, recognizing that the conversation was ending.

Beth's smile was a bit easier now. "You, too, Jimmy. And congratulations."

When Jimmy and Mandy turned, walking out, Beth let out a breath that she must have been holding, but hadn't realized she had been. She sank a little in her seat, feeling exhausted all of a sudden, and she picked up her mug of hot chocolate, cupping it between both hands and bringing it closer to her face. It wasn't as hot anymore, but it was still warm and she closed her eyes, able to feel it sweep onto her face.

She took a sip and opened her eyes and saw Daryl still at the lunch counter, waiting for whatever it was that he ordered. She wondered why he was in a judicial building on such a crummy day. The last time she had seen him in here, he had mentioned the lunch counter and having heard good things about it. Obviously, he was here again today to finally try it for himself.

He turned his head and saw her looking at him and Beth quickly whipped her head away, feeling her blush explode on her face and creep down her neck. Darn it, Beth, she harshly scolded herself in her head. Can we go one day without you acting pathetic around him?

Remembering her book, she opened to the page she had left off on before Jimmy came, and she began reading again, pausing only to take spoonfuls of her soup. She made sure she didn't look up again for anything and assumed that Daryl had gotten his food and had left.

But then, she heard a throat clearing.

For the second time since sitting there, Beth stopped reading and she lifted her eyes. This time though, it was someone much more welcome than Jimmy's presence at her table.

"Hi," she greeted Daryl with a bright smile.

"Hi," he returned and Beth thought that maybe he was smiling, too, but she couldn't be too sure because Daryl didn't smile like most people did. His lips always seemed to barely twitch and that was his definition of a smile. A person had to be looking for it to see it.

"Would you like to sit or…?" She trailed off then, unsure of how to continue that.

"I don't wanna bother you," Daryl said with a shake of his head, but he didn't step away, and Beth smiled, gesturing to the bench seat across from her.

Slowly, he slid into it and set his food down on the table. She saw that he had gotten himself a tuna salad sandwich with a side of fries and a bottle of Coke. The lunch counter made their fries, made-to-order, the cook having a pile of big, brown potatoes back there with him. They were the best fries probably in all the city. Just looking at them, Beth felt her throat go a little dry for a taste of one and she told herself she would order a bag to take back to the office with her even if most of her coworkers would want one for themselves when they smelled what she had brought back with her.

"Was he a friend of yours?" Daryl asked as he took a couple of napkins from the dispenser on the table and it took Beth a second longer than it should have to realize that he was referring to Jimmy.

"I wouldn't exactly call him a friend," Beth replied with a shake of her head. "More like… an ex-boyfriend who cruelly crushed my eighteen-year-old heart."

"Ah. One of those," he said and she smiled.

"Guys are the worst," Beth teased, feeling a bout of confidence right then to do so.

"We really are," Daryl agreed, picking his sandwich up with both hands. He took a bite and waited until he had finished chewing and swallowed before speaking again. "Surprised you didn' get a sandwich to eat," he commented and Beth saw his ears turn a little pink. "I know how much you love 'em," he then added as if he had to.

Beth smiled, feeling more pleased than she probably should that he had remembered her saying how much she loved sandwiches.

"I was feeling cold because of the rain outside, but I usually order the peanut butter and jelly sandwich when I come here for lunch," she answered. Daryl lifted his eyebrow at that, chewing on another bite of sandwich, and Beth let out a little laugh. "Don't knock it until you try it. They use chunky peanut butter and they make their own bread _and_ their own strawberry jam here. It's the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich you'll ever try."

Again, Daryl's lips twitched and Beth was pretty certain this time that he _was_ smiling.

"I'm gonna have to remember that for next time," he said. "Tuna's pretty good, too."

"You have to try one of their fries," Beth said. "I really want to see you try one." She felt herself blush and nearly cringe after she said that, aware of how crazy she probably sounded to him because she definitely sounded crazy in her own ears.

But Daryl just smirked and listened to her, taking one of the fries and taking a bite.

She watched as he chewed slowly and then swallowed.

He nodded after a moment. "Yeah. That was pretty good," he said and she felt like laughing.

"Just pretty good?" She asked, aware that she was teasing him again and how on earth did she get so comfortable with him all of a sudden to be at ease with teasing him?

"Pretty _damn_ good," Daryl edited.

"Better," Beth beamed and this time, she knew that he was definitely smiling.

She took a small sip of soup and Daryl chewed the rest of his fry.

"What are you readin'?" He asked. Beth lifted the cover so he could see and his eyebrow lifted again. She felt her cheeks warm. "That's an interestin' choice to read while eating."

"At least it's not _The Jungle_ ," she smiled.

Daryl smirked a little. "That book turned me off of meat for a while."

"Me, too," Beth kept smiling. "This one, I've been on a waiting list at the library and it's _finally_ my turn."

Even though he didn't ask, she held the book out for him to take and Daryl wiped his fingers on one of his napkins before taking it. He read the inside cover and then looked over the pages of pictures that were gathered in the middle of the book. He then looked at her.

"You like readin' books on Jeffrey Dahmer?" He asked.

"And Ted Bundy. John Wayne Gacy. Jack the Ripper… I like serial killers," Beth said. "I mean, I don't _like_ serial killers. I like reading about them. I like reading the psychological aspects to them and the author's theories on what made them tick. Do you know the FBI has this horrifying statistic that there's something like at least 25 to 50 active serial killers in the country right at this very second?"

Daryl set the book down and picked his sandwich up, but didn't take a bite. "How'd you go and defend a guy like that?"

"I'm just a paralegal," she reminded him.

"But if you were a lawyer and your client had killed ten people. How'd you defend 'em?"

"Good old fashioned insanity," Beth said, only half-joking.

There would be a lot of work to be put into a defense for a captured serial killer and the insanity plea would be the most obvious. Luckily, the offices of Harris & Monroe had never gotten such a case. Beth would definitely be working overtime with that one and honestly, it would be like the case she was working with Aiden on right now. Defending someone like that wouldn't be the easiest thing for her to do.

One of the things she loved about practicing the law in this country was every citizen – no matter who they were or what they had done – got the chance for a fair trial and a person who worked to defend them. It was their right. Even if the person had been caught holding the severed head of his latest victim, they were still innocent until proven guilty.

It was one of the reasons why she hadn't become a full-fledged lawyer. She loved the law. But Beth could admit to herself that there were certain cases and people that she wouldn't be able to defend no matter what oath she took to do just that. She already knew that she wouldn't be a good lawyer because of that. Aiden had told her more than once. Andrea, too. Beth had a habit of taking things too personally. She wasn't able to ever turn it "off".

She shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts and focus on the fact that Daryl was sitting across from her and for all intents and purposes, they were eating lunch together and he actually seemed comfortable enough around her for once to talk with her.

"I haven't even asked," Beth said, wanting to change topics. Maggie was right about something. She worked too hard and maybe, for this time she sat across from Daryl, she wanted to talk and think about something other than work. "What are you doing here today in such terrible weather?"

And within a second, he stiffened and something passed over Daryl's face that she couldn't identify, but whatever it was, the ease from just a second ago that they had been talking with had disappeared completely; and so quickly, Beth would have thought she would have imagined the previous relaxed mood if she hadn't been experiencing it for herself.

She had been out of the rain for almost two hours now, but she felt cold again.

…

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 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**I am in love with this chapter and I hope you all love it, too! As always, your warm response to this story makes me so happy.**

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…

 **Eight.**

For a second – a nanosecond – Daryl considered telling Beth why he was in the judicial building that day; that he was seeing his parole officer up on the second floor as he did every Wednesday and would have to until the State of Georgia told him otherwise. For a nanosecond, he wondered what her reaction to that would be.

Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. Maybe she would be curious, but accepting of it and telling him that everyone makes mistakes before going back to talking about serial killers. Or maybe she would stiffen and look at him like _he_ was one of those serial killers and then excuse herself quickly and never talk with him again. He supposed that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing to happen. Maybe, if she stopped showing up at the bar, he would be able to stop thinking about her all of the damn time.

Daryl took another moment, picking up another French fry to eat. Beth was right. They were damn good. He had always liked the fries that still had the potato skins on them.

"I'm sorry," Beth said in a rush before he could say anything. "I'm always prying into things and asking questions even when it's none of my business. I've always been curious about everything and would follow my daddy around, asking him question after question about anything and everything. My mom jokes that it's one of the reasons I went to Law School."

Daryl looked at her, sitting across from him. Her hair was down that day and it had gotten a bit damp from the rain outside. It had now dried in waves. She wore dresses everyday – at least every day when he saw her except for that time at the grocery store – and today it was gray with a green sash tied around her waist. When he had been at the counter, getting his food, he had seen the heels she was wearing on her feet and he thought it was a stupid thing to be wearing in this kind of weather, but he would never tell her something like that.

Beth was pretty – so freaking pretty – and even more than that, she was a genuinely nice person. He liked talking with her. It was amazing to him that he was actually able to talk with her in sentences that were more than just grunts. He realized that he didn't want to stop talking with her, and she _was_ a nice person, but even nice people – especially those who worked in law and probably saw guys like him day in and day out – would be wary about sharing her lunch hour with a guy with a parole officer.

He still didn't say anything and Beth gave him a small smile. She put her book into her bag and began gathering the rest of her things.

"I need to get back to the office," she said and he felt that the moment to tell her was gone.

Daryl swallowed the fry still in his mouth and watched as she began standing up to put on her coat. He suddenly had the strangest urge in his chest to not let her go; to not let her step away from the table because if he did, he would never get a chance like this again. They would see one another at the bar, but other than that, he couldn't imagine another coincidence like seeing her in the grocery store or today, eating lunch, would happen again.

Man up, Daryl, he swore he could hear Merle's voice in his head.

Daryl swallowed again. "I've got a parole officer I see on the second floor," he blurted out.

Beth went absolutely still, one arm in her coat while the other wasn't, and she looked at him. Daryl was pretty sure he would be willing to look at anything else in the world right about now then look at Beth. Seeing a public stoning in the town square would be better right now than having to feel her eyes on him and have no idea what she was thinking or how drastically her opinion of him had just changed.

"Oh," she finally said after a moment.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting her to do; probably to finish putting on her coat and tell him again that she had to get back to the office.

Instead, Beth pulled her arm from her coat and draped it over her arm and she never took her eyes from him. "You didn't kill or rape someone, did you?" She asked in a quiet – almost hesitant – voice and he saw her worry and _fear_ in her eyes and that just about socked him in the gut; that she would be afraid of him – even for a second.

But he couldn't blame her. She didn't know and as far as she knew, maybe he was like one of those guys in those books she read about.

Daryl shook his head, looking back down to his half-eaten tuna sandwich. _Almost_ , he nearly said, but decided she never needed to know that much. "Assault," he told her gruffly. "Not on a woman," he then thought to add.

He kept his eyes cast down and he heard her moving and wouldn't blame her for walking away, but instead, she slid back into the bench seat across from him and he lifted his head to look at her, not able to help but feel surprised that she had stayed. And then he felt like an asshole for thinking the worst of her. Beth had already showed to him what kind of person she was in every warm smile she had ever given him. He didn't know her, but he knew enough to know that he shouldn't have doubted her.

"How long were you locked up?" She asked, her voice quiet yet gentle – as if she didn't want to startle him off as she would a skittish rabbit if she was to move too quickly just then.

"Two years. Got out a few months ago," Daryl said and now that he was looking at her again, he found that he really wasn't able to look away from her.

"Who's your parole officer?" She asked.

Daryl found himself pushing his plate of fries closer to the middle of the table, silently offering some to her; wondering if she would take any.

"Shane Walsh," he answered her question. He figured since he had just told her the damn near biggest secret he had, might as well answer her other relatively easy questions.

"I know of him," she nodded after a moment. "I've never officially met him."

"He's good. Intense, but I've met bigger hard asses than 'im."

Daryl reached for a fry and he watched as Beth reached for one as well; seemingly not even aware of what she was doing. He watched as she took her first bite and it wasn't as if he meant to be sitting there, staring at her lips and the way her jaw moved as she chewed, but he couldn't seem to help himself for some reason.

"I know he was with the Sheriff's Department for a bit of time," Beth said. "His partner got shot on duty and I think…" she paused for a moment, chewing another bite, and then she shrugged her shoulders slightly. "He left the Department because I think he felt guilty over it."

"But you don't know 'im?" Daryl asked and he heard the slight teasing in his tone. Hopefully, Beth would be able to hear it, too. He was amazed he could even think about doing anything resembling teasing right now.

She did because she smiled a little. "I hear stories and I infer a lot. It's a terrible habit."

"'specially for a lawyer," he smirked a little.

"Paralegal," she corrected him not for the first time.

Daryl shrugged. "Still a lawyer from what I can tell. Always workin' and highlightin' stuff and meetin' with people."

Beth smiled at that and he saw the faintest blush splash across her cheeks. He almost smiled. Somehow, her blush made her even prettier to him.

"Paralegals aren't licensed, nor permitted, to practice law. I can't represent you in a court if you need representation," she explained. "And I never took the bar exam."

Daryl couldn't help but stare at her at that confession. "Why?" He blurted out before he could stop himself and he knew that it was none of his business and she didn't owe him any kind of answer, but still, he hadn't been expecting that from her. From what little he knew about this girl sitting in front of him, he knew that she loved the law.

Taking the bar and not passing it was one thing, but not taking it at all…

It was Beth's turn to shrug. "I had my reasons."

As she took another fry, her phone began to vibrate and she pulled it from her bag. Whatever message she had just received, it made her sigh heavily.

"Can I tell you a secret?" She asked as she slipped the phone back into her bag. "I can," she then decided before he could even tell her himself. "I know I can."

She leaned in a bit closer to the table between them and Daryl found himself doing the same. He wondered what the other people coming in and out of the lunch counter and seeing them sitting at their back table beneath the large round window thought about them. Probably thought they were a couple out on a date or something.

Daryl waited for his inner thoughts to scoff at that idea, but it never happened.

"We're working a case right now and it's not sitting right with me," Beth confessed. "I think we might be going after the person who is the one of the two people telling the truth."

Daryl wished he was a person better at talking, but it had honestly never been his strong suit. He had always preferred to go through this life, making as little noise as possible; a lesson learned early on from his old man. The less noise he made, the less chance Daryl had of pissing Will Dixon off – not that the man ever needed a reason to take a swipe at him.

"What are you gonna do about it?" He finally asked after a beat.

Beth exhaled a soft sigh and with a slight shake of her head, she stood up for the second time to put on her coat. "What can I do?" She asked and Daryl got to his feet as well, watching as she buttoned her coat and then wrapped her scarf around her neck and pulled her bag and purse from the booth, shouldering both onto her left shoulder.

He could still hear the rain hitting the windows and roof of the building, sounding like pins. Stupid freezing rain. He checked the weather every morning – especially on the days he had to go see Shane, not wanting to be late – and freezing rain had definitely not been in the forecast for that day. Didn't weathermen have to go to school or something and learn how to tell the weather or could any idiot just walk in from off the street and get the job?

Daryl was leaning towards the latter.

"It's my job," Beth then said with a weighted sigh and she sounded so much older right then than she should have.

Daryl couldn't help but frown a little, his hands in his jeans pockets, feeling about as useful as a bump on a log right now. "You should come by the bar tonight," Daryl blurted out.

He knew that she had to get back to the office and yet, he realized he wasn't too eager about them parting ways just yet. He liked talking with her. He felt _comfortable_ talking with her and besides Merle and Carol and Sophia, he wasn't that comfortable with too many people.

"Isn't it karaoke night?" Beth asked and a smile slowly stretched across her lips. "I know how much you love those nights."

Daryl snorted at that and Beth laughed softly.

"My brother's added somethin' new to the menu and I thought you might want to try it," he said, feeling nervous all of a sudden. "'s a sandwich. Warm corned beef with melted Swiss cheese on an.. on an onion roll."

Beth stared up at him and he couldn't read her expression and Daryl rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, feeling how warm it felt all of a sudden. He wondered if Beth had already figured out that the sandwich had been his idea, but she wasn't a dumb girl and it was on an onion roll, which he knew was her favorite. Of course she knew it was his idea.

"That sounds amazing," Beth smiled up at him. "I will definitely be by after work tonight."

He gave a jerky nod. "I'll save your stool for you." He swallowed the thickness in his throat. "Thanks for not…" he cleared his throat. "Thank you for not freakin' out… 'bout what I told you. 'Bout me servin' time…"

Beth was still smiling that soft smile of hers and she shook her head. "People make mistakes, Daryl. It's what we do."

He jutted his chin towards her bag. "That what you say 'bout your serial killers?"

She laughed and he nearly smiled because her laugh… damn, it was one of the nicest things he had ever heard in his shit-filled life; like the sun was finally coming out after this endless rain finally stopped clouding up the sky.

He almost frowned. Where the hell did _that_ thought come from?

"Those cases were a _little_ more difficult," Beth said and his lips almost tugged into a smile for the countless time.

He wondered what it would be like if he just gave a full-fledged grin when around her. Did he even know how to grin?

"And thank you for telling me," she said. "I'll see you later this evening."

Daryl gave a nod and Beth turned away, but after just a few steps, she turned back towards him with a slight furrow between her brows.

"You didn't ride your motorcycle in this, did you?" She asked.

Daryl smirked a little and shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout me. I got my brother's truck."

"Alright," she said and she blushed again; as if embarrassed that she had been so obviously worried about him. "Well, drive safe."

"You, too," he said with a slight incline of his head towards her and he watched as she walked from the lunch counter, the blush still across her face.

He turned back towards their booth and slid his coat back on before heading back towards the order counter. He wanted to get himself another order of fries. He wouldn't tell Merle this, but they were the best damn French fries he had ever had.

…

"Uncle Daryl!"

It was three-thirty, right on the dot, when Sophia rushed into his apartment. He was laying on his futon, reading a book, and he sat up, watching as she dropped her book bag by the door and came running towards the television instead of to him.

"What you doin'?" He asked, sitting up.

She grabbed the remote and began flipping through the stations. "There's this show on right now. The kids at school were telling me about it. It's about urban legends and today's episode is about the Slender Man. Have you ever heard about him? He scares the crud out of me, but everyone is going to be watching this and I don't want to be left out."

Daryl frowned a little, trying to keep up with the speed of which she was talking. "If it scares you, why you gonna watch? Jus' 'cause every other moron in your class is watchin'?"

"Yep," Sophia answered.

Daryl rolled his eyes. He forgot how stupid kids could be at this age.

She found the right station and turning the volume up, she came and sat down next to him on the futon. She tugged off her shoes, letting them drop onto the floor, and then brought her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and hugging them, as if already being prepared to be scared.

Daryl wished he had a throw pillow around to give her to hide behind.

"You hungry?" He asked and then stood up without waiting for her response.

First, he went into his bedroom and took the one spare blanket he had in his closet down from the shelf and then coming back out to the living room, he tossed it at her. He then went into the kitchen, returning a minute later with a bag of barbecue potato chips and two cans of root beer. He handed one to Sophia, put the bag between them, and then sat down again. They both popped the tabs on their soda cans and watched for a few minutes.

Daryl frowned. "Wait a minute. So, those pictures are just made up?" He asked.

"I think most of them are," Sophia said.

"They jus' said that some guy created Slender Man for a photo-shop contest, whatever the hell that is," Daryl said and the more he listened, the deeper his frown got.

"It's when someone takes a photo and changes it up on their computer," Sophia explained and Daryl just looked at her and after a moment, realizing what she just said, she blushed and gave an embarrassed smile. "Fine. The pictures aren't real, but people _have_ claimed to see the real Slender Man. He lives in the woods and wears suits and has no face. Just a white head and really long arms and legs."

"Yeah, I just saw the photographic evidence," Daryl replied dryly. "You honestly afraid of this photo-shop thing comin' after you?"

" _Look_ at him, Uncle Daryl," Sophia frowned. " _Of course_ I'm afraid of him." She took a sip of root beer and took a chip from the bag, munching on it. "I wished you had a laptop. There are a bunch of Slender Man videos on YouTube I could show you that people have shot of seeing him for themselves."

Daryl frowned some more. "What's YouTube?" He asked.

"Uncle Daryl, you were in prison. Not living on a deserted island," she told him.

"Not much difference 'tween the two," he shrugged. He watched the show for another minute or two and then shook his head. "I'm 'bout to go downstairs and tell your dad that we're all goin' campin' in the woods and you'll see that there's no Slender Man anywhere."

Sophia's eyes widened in complete terror at even just the simple suggestion of doing that.

"I am _never_ going camping in the woods," she told him in a firm-as-stone tone.

"How you expect to get over your fear then?" He asked her.

Sophia shook her head so quickly, her short brown hair whipped her cheeks. "Nope," she said, popping the "p". "I'm perfectly content living my life, terrified of everything."

Daryl was unable to help, but smirk at that. "I think you're a lot tougher than you give yourself credit for," he commented after a moment and he thought of everything she and her mom had gone through for years.

Sophia had just taken a sip of root beer and she froze at his words, looking at him with slightly wide eyes as if his opinion of her surprised her completely. She slowly swallowed.

"You think I'm tough?" She asked, almost in a whisper, as if she was afraid that his answer would suddenly be something completely different.

"I don't know everythin' 'bout your first dad, but I know enough, and hell yeah, I think you're tough," he said. "I bet most of the kids you go to school with haven't been through even half of what you've already been through and look at you now."

Sophia was silent at that, still staring at him.

"You really gonna let yourself be scared of some guy in a suit with long arms and legs?" He asked her and she swallowed again even though there was nothing in her mouth anymore.

Slowly, she shook her head.

"Hell, no, you ain't scared. And when all this rain stops and the ground gets a chance to dry out a bit, we are gonna go campin' and it'll be a blast," he promised her.

Slowly, Daryl watched as a smile crept across Sophia's face.

"That a girl," he said and now, Sophia was practically beaming.

…

Daryl handed the college kid a refill of the pitcher of beer to take back to his friends at the pool table before glancing over to Beth. She had her laptop, but it had been pushed to the side, so she could eat her sandwich. For such a little thing, she had nearly wolfed the sandwich down in a matter of minutes and there was something about it that Daryl found to be attractive as hell.

He approached her and when she saw him coming, she held her hand in front of her mouth as she chewed and she smiled at him with her eyes. He smiled a little in return.

"Good?" He asked even though he already knew the answer seeing as how it was almost gone and Beth was reading his mind because she did her best to not laugh as she chewed.

Finally finished chewing her bite, she lowered her hand. "Don't be surprised if I'm back here tomorrow for another at lunchtime."

"I'll tell Merle it's been Beth approved," Daryl said and she smiled happily as she dragged one of her fries through the pool of ketchup on her plate. "Is that your work laptop?" He asked, looking at the thin silver laptop open next to her arm.

Beth shook her head. "My personal one. I was doing some research and I… well, to be honest, I didn't want my work computer to have any traces of it," she admitted.

"Do you mind if I look somethin' up on it? It ain't porn or anythin'," he quickly added.

Beth laughed at that and turned the laptop towards him. "Have at it."

Daryl didn't lift his hands though. "I don't…" he shook his head and didn't want to finish that sentence though he knew she was smart enough to figure it out for herself and Beth's smile softened and her cheeks turned a little pink.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." She grabbed a napkin and wiped at her fingers before turning the laptop sideways on the bar so they could both look at it. "What do you need to look up?" She asked, her fingers poised over the black keys.

"Uh, YouTube?" He asked as if he wasn't sure if it was a real website at all.

Beth smiled and clicked on a button at the top of some bar and a second later, a page opened up with YouTube in red in the top corner. "Next?" She asked him and he looked for a moment at the page and all of the little boxes that were listed. As if sensing his confusion, she clicked on one. A video of a porcupine standing up and giving their zookeeper a high five opened up and played. "It's one of my favorites," she said with a slight laugh. "See?" She brought the arrow to a number underneath the video. "Millions of other people love it, too."

"So, it's just a web page of videos?" He asked.

"Yep," Beth nodded, helping herself to another fry. She pushed the plate towards him just as he had done with her at the lunch counter and this time, he took a fry for himself. "They have millions upon million videos. If you want to see a music video or a clip of a movie or… a hamster eating pizza, they have it."

"Uh, Slender Man videos?" He asked and he was honestly feeling a little overwhelmed.

Even if he hadn't just spent the past two years locked up, he had never liked technology that much. He wondered if he would have had any clue what YouTube was whether or not he had served time or not. Maybe he would have heard it in passing, but wouldn't have thought much of it. And really, the only reason he was thinking of it now was because his niece had some irrational fear and she was a Dixon now. They faced those head on.

Beth typed 'Slender Man' into the search bar and within an instant, the page was flooded with search results. Beth looked for a moment. "Am I about to be terrified?" She asked, turning her head towards him, and Daryl looked away from the screen to look at her.

Christ, how had their faces gotten so close?

He was leaning way too into her personal space to get close to the screen and he wondered why she hadn't told him to back the hell up. Though Beth being Beth, she would be a lot more polite in saying that. Or maybe she was too polite to say anything at all. There was no way she wasn't uncomfortable with him being so close to her right now.

Slowly, he pulled his head back a bit away from hers. He then remembered her question. "I doubt it. My niece was tellin' me 'bout this guy today and it scares the shit out of her. I told her there's nothin' 'bout it to be afraid of and she told me 'bout videos on YouTube 'bout sightings or some shit like that. Jus' wanna see what she's watchin'."

Beth smiled at him. "That's really sweet," she said and Daryl didn't know what was sweet about it, but he didn't ask and instead, watched as Beth clicked on the first video in the list.

A video started playing and it was too shaky to really see what was going on, but it was night and someone was running, their breathing heavy on the camera. "He's coming. He's coming," the man was panting and somewhere off camera, Daryl and Beth heard leaves rustling and branches snapping.

The video went on for another thirty seconds before it ended abruptly.

"That's it?" Daryl frowned.

"Just remember that not everything you see or read on the internet is true. Very important to remember that," she said with a smile, taking another fry.

Daryl straightened and looked at the laptop for a moment before looking back to her. He didn't know why he felt so comfortable around her all of a sudden. Maybe it's because he didn't feel like he was carrying some weight on his back whenever he was around her. He had told her and she hadn't immediately high-tailed it away from him.

He should have known. Merle had said she wasn't one, but Daryl didn't agree with him. Beth Greene had to be an angel and angels weren't the kind to just spit in someone's face.

"Are laptops expensive?" He managed to get the question out.

Merle paid him every week and neither he or Carol wanted any rent from him and the only way he was able to pay for his heat and water was by throwing money on Merle's desk and then running away. He barely had any other expenses except the money he had to send to the State of Georgia every month for boarding him and feeding him for the past two years.

Beth smiled a little and shook her head. "We can find you a good one that's not expensive at all," she said and Daryl gave a nod at that.

He was grateful that she had volunteered to help him because otherwise, he hadn't been sure how to ask her.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Another chapter I absolutely love. Thank you so much to those reading and reviewing. I'm glad you're loving this story, too!**

* * *

…

 **Nine.**

When Daryl turned down the dirt drive, he thought for a second, that he had made a wrong turn somewhere. He glanced down to the piece of paper Beth had written her address on and then looked back through the windshield. Beth had warned him that she lived in the middle of nowhere. He just hadn't thought it would be _this_ middle of the nowhere.

Kind of looked perfect to him.

There were fields of tall green grass on either side of the dirt road and a sky that stretched ahead with nothing getting in the way of it. It was wide and open and for a second, he thought that maybe Beth had just been playing a joke on him and she had purposely led him out here, knowing there was absolutely nothing. But as soon as the thought popped into his head, Daryl shook it out again. It was a shitty thing to think of Beth doing and he knew without a doubt that Beth wouldn't even _think_ of doing something like that.

He drove down the dirt drive for about a quarter of a mile and then he saw the white house ahead, the drive leading right to it. It was small and white and simple. There was no garage, but an overhang next to the house and he recognized Beth's car parked beneath it. There was a shed behind that – painted a dark blue – where he assumed she kept her yard stuff.

The house itself was simple – a small rectangle; painted white with a dark blue door and dark blue window shutters that matched the shade of the shed. There was a stone path that led from the dirt drive up to the front door and Daryl followed it now, heading towards the front steps. The front door was open and through the screen door he could see inside. He raised his fist and knocked and a second later, he saw Beth hurrying towards him, a wide smile stretched across her face. Her hair was down and slightly damp.

"Hi!" She greeted him, switching the latch and pushing the door open for him. She then stepped back so he could step inside. "Did you have any problem finding it?" She asked.

Daryl shook his head honestly. "Your directions were good," he answered.

"I just need a few more minutes. I got a call from work and it threw my whole morning schedule off," she said, heading towards the kitchen.

"Take your time." He remained standing at the door, his hands pushing into his jeans pockets. He felt a little awkward. A _lot_ awkward and he didn't know where to go or where to look and he figured standing there would be the best thing to do.

"Here you go," Beth returned and held out an actual bottle of Coke towards him. He took it and looked at it as if he had never seen one more. Beth smiled as if she could read his mind. "I buy the bottles. They're a little more expensive, but I try to stay away from the high fructose corn syrup and the soda in the bottles use actual sugar. Make yourself at home. I'll be ready to go before you know it!"

And with that, Beth hurried from the room, heading into the next room, which Daryl assumed was the bedroom.

He stood there another moment longer and then he heard the sound of a blow dryer being turned on. He looked down at the cold bottle of Coke in his hand and slowly – almost hesitantly – he twisted the top off and took a sip; almost as if he was expecting it to be something other than Coke.

He finally couldn't help, but look around. The living room and kitchen poured into one another, making it one big room. There was a fireplace and framed pictures lined the mantel. On either side of the fireplace, there was a bookcase, every last spot crammed with a book. There was an upright black piano and a basket on the floor next to it, overflowing with sheet music. There was a wooden kitchen table with four chairs and there was a vase of daisies in the center of it, papers strewn around and a laptop open at one of the chairs. In front of the front window, there was a shelf with a record player on top of it and stacks of records on the two shelves below it. There was color everywhere – the couch and armchair a shade of gray, but both adorned with different colored pillows and a multi-patch quilt was balled up in one corner of the couch.

The sun was shining through the windows, warming the rooms. The house was a little messy and yet, it seemed like it was organized chaos. It somehow fit the house perfectly.

Beth came back out from the bedroom. She was wearing these jeans that looked a second skin and black rubber boots were pulled on over them that went to her calves. The forecast had called for rain that afternoon and he was a little relieved to see that they weren't heels. The green cable-knit sweater she wore was thick and looked a little too big for her and she had dried her hair and then braided it back, pinning it up around her head.

She looked casual and beautiful and… perfect.

The thought made the back of his neck flush and he did his best to look away from her, but he really didn't have anywhere else to look.

"I really like your life," he heard himself say and he instantly wanted to slug himself for stupidly letting that thought in his mind have a voice.

But Beth's smile softened and she looked up at him with eyes that seemed to be glowing. "That's probably one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me," she told him after a moment and the back of his neck felt on fire now.

This time, he was able to look away – his eyes going to a framed painting Beth had on the wall next to the door he assumed was the front closet. He looked at it and took a sip of his coke. It was of a girl sitting up in a field, looking at a house in the distance.

"It's 'Christina's World' by Andrew Wyeth. It's my favorite painting and he's my favorite painter. I have a couple more of his prints hanging around here," Beth said, following his eyes. He didn't look at her and continued looking at the painting.

He couldn't help, but take a step closer to it, his eyes not able to move away from the painted girl. He couldn't see her face and yet, he had no problem imagining it.

"The girl has a disease that keeps her from being able to walk and the house is supposed to represent a place she can never reach."

"That's bullshit," Daryl grumbled. Then realizing what he said, his eyes widened a little and he looked at Beth, about to apologize, but Beth just gave him a smile.

She nodded. "I always like to think that she does get there eventually. Look at her. She's determined. You can't see her face, but you can just tell. I like to think that no matter how hopeless something seems, getting to the house is always possible."

Daryl stared at her and this time, he really couldn't look away.

And he knew that he didn't really want to.

Who the hell was this girl? He didn't think girls – _people_ – like her actually existed. Just genuinely good and kind people. How does a person become someone like that? And what the hell was a guy like him doing here, in her presence? She had to have people in her life who would tell her that spending time with him was a bad idea and Daryl wouldn't be able to argue with them about that because it was the truth. He didn't deserve to be here.

But then Beth smiled at him. "You ready to go?" She asked.

Daryl swallowed and nodded. "Yeah."

He took the bottle of Coke with him and waited as Beth closed and locked the house up. She had a black bag slung across her chest and she twirled her key ring around her index finger.

"How'd you even find this place to buy?" Daryl asked as they walked towards the truck he had borrowed from Merle for the day. He didn't hear anything except the breeze blowing through the tall grass and birds chirping.

"Honestly, I was looking for a place still within city limits, but just _barely_. After dealing with people all day at work and in court, I just want to be alone," she answered with a smile. Daryl followed her around to the passenger side of the truck and her smile seemed to double in size when he opened the door for her. "I mean, I love people, but I love being alone, too."

"Know what you mean," he gave a short nod. "Not 'bout lovin' people, but lovin' bein' alone," he said and Beth laughed at that as she climbed up into the truck.

Daryl make sure that she was in the way all the way before he closed the door and walked back around to the driver's side, to slide up behind the wheel.

"So, where we goin'?" He asked, putting the Coke bottle between his thighs as he turned the key in the ignition.

Beth beamed as she reached into her bag and pulled out a folded sales-ad. "There's this place. Microcenter. And I was doing research and they have the best prices on laptops. The store's having a really good sale today, too. I figure we'll go there first and if they don't have what you want, we can always go to Best Buy."

"If the first place don't have one, I'm just not gettin' one," Daryl shrugged as he put the truck in reverse and stretched his arm across the bench seat as he looked out the back window, pulling down the long drive.

"Not a big fan of shopping?" Beth asked with a tease in her tone.

"My sister-in-law keeps wantin' to take me shoppin' for furniture. I'm runnin' out of excuses of why I can't go. She didn' buy me havin' leprosy."

Beth burst out laughing at that and he smiled a little as he pulled out onto the road. Beth pointed a finger in the direction they needed to go, still laughing, and Daryl began driving.

Despite the grey clouds that were starting to slowly creep across the sky, taking over the blue, it was still Saturday and plenty of people were out, running their errands. The Microcenter store was in a strip that shared space with a big Whole Foods grocery store and the parking lot was jammed pack with cars and people. Daryl was finally able to find a spot – the last spot in the last row.

"I hate Saturdays," he grumbled as he and Beth began making their trek towards the store.

"In and out. I promise," Beth said, her eyes reading through the ad as they walked. Daryl finished the last swig of Coke and Beth held out her hand. He frowned a little, but handed her the bottle and watched as she slipped it into her bag. "We'll stop in Whole Foods when we're done in here. They have a recycling box."

Daryl thought of all of the times he and Merle had just thrown their beer bottles across parking lots when they were done drinking or smashing them against the sides of buildings. There was not a single part of him which was surprised that Beth recycled.

Inside the store, it was quiet. Every aisle was filled with anything and everything a person could either want or need for their computer. Daryl frowned when he looked at all of it. Even if he hadn't been locked up for the past two years, he knew he would have gladly missed the boat on all of this technology. He didn't even like having a cell phone, but Merle had shoved an old flip phone into his palm a week after he got out and told him to keep it.

Daryl kept it – in the drawer in his kitchen.

"Laptops are in the back," Beth said and they walked along the main aisle, heading towards the back of the store where there were sections for seemingly every brand of laptop in the world. Daryl couldn't help but frown as he looked at all of them. Beth noticed and smiled up at him. "Don't worry. I have a game plan," she assured him and tapped her temple with the tip of her index finger and Daryl found himself smiling a little.

She looked down to the ad and then taking Daryl's shirt sleeve, she gently pulled him towards a display under a "Dell" sign. "Do you like the look of any of these?" She asked. "Dells have a lot of space for memory and they have Microsoft and I know you don't know what either of those things are, but they're good things to have. I love Microsoft Word."

Daryl looked over the eight black laptops they had on display. He shrugged. "All look the same to me," he said. And they really did to him.

"Do you think you'll watch movies on it?" She asked. "You can watch movies on a laptop, if you want. It's convenient for when you want to lie in bed and watch something," she said.

He looked to her. "That what you do on yours?" He asked.

"My perfect day is spending it in bed, watching episodes of _Pushing Daisies_ ," Beth said with a smile. She then laughed a little as he just looked down at her. "Don't worry. I'll show it to you. You don't know what you're missing," she promised.

He felt a warmth he couldn't explain as she smiled up at him and he did his best to shrug it away. "Don't own any movies," he answered her initial question.

He did, but then he got locked up and Merle took what he had and when Merle told him he'd give it all back now that he was out again, Daryl just shook his head. He didn't want any of it and if he did, he knew where it was. Owning the box set of all _Alien_ movies just wasn't important to him anymore.

"What 'bout the one you have? I like that one."

Beth kept smiling. "Alright. It's an Apple and I was going to show it to you last just because Apple computers can be the most expensive, but I love them. You don't have to buy any extra software to ward off viruses like you have to buy for these."

Daryl frowned a little because he understood about every other word she just said, but then Beth reached down and took his hand in hers as if she had done that every other day for their entire lives and she gently led him towards another section of laptops. He followed her, looking down at her hand holding his. Her skin was so damn pale next to his and her nails were painted some dark color – either black or something so dark, it looked black.

He noticed that her hand was soft and a little cool to the touch and before he could stop himself, Daryl felt his fingers tighten a bit around her hand, and if Beth noticed, she didn't bring attention to it. She just kept her hand tucked into his and led him towards the Apple laptops and Daryl wondered why having her hold his hand felt so damn good.

He was pretty sure that no one had ever held his hand before in his life. Not even his mom when he was a little kid and if she did, it had happened so long ago and when he had been so young, he didn't remember it.

When they reached the Apple computers, Beth slowly slipped her hand from his and he frowned a little and wondered what she would do if he took hold of it again. But he watched as she unfolded the ad again and once it was open to the page she wanted, her other hand returned right back into his. Daryl's fingers instantly closed around it and he busied himself with looking at the laptops in front of him instead of looking at her.

He wondered why she wanted to hold his hand, but he would never ask her; not really wanting to hear the answer. She knew the truth about him and yet, she still wanted to spend time with him and hold his hand – in public – where people could see. Didn't it bother her? Didn't it bother her that he had been in prison for the past two years and he was on parole and had to go pee in a cup every other month and had a parole officer who could just knock on his door whenever he damn well felt like it?

How could she be okay with all of that?

How was he okay with letting her hold his hand? He wasn't the guy she should be holding hands with. So why the hell couldn't he pull his hand back? Why couldn't he seem to let go?

"I know," Beth saw his growing frown and interpreted it for something else. "They are a bit more expensive than the ones we were looking at-"

"Can I help you?"

Both Daryl and Beth turned their heads to see a sales guy wearing a green Microcenter polo shirt approach them, wearing a smile.

"Yes," Beth answered. "There's a coupon in your ad that if you spend over $1000, you get 30% off your purchase. I don't see any fine print though so I'm not sure if that includes laptops." She held the ad out for the guy to see.

"One day only special on anything in the store, including these laptops here," the man smiled. "See one you're interested in?"

Beth looked back to Daryl. "Do you want an Apple? We can get one for a really good price or we could go back to look at the Dells again or see if you like any of the HP ones."

"Nah. I want that one," Daryl said, looking at the thin silver laptop that he recognized as the same one as Beth having, currently marked for $1200 bucks.

Beth smiled and nodded, looking back to the sales guy. "Could you give us one more minute? I just want him to play around with it and when we're ready, we'll come find you."

The sales guy left them alone and Beth pulled Daryl towards the laptop.

"Here," she laughed gently. "Both hands. This is the mouse pad." She moved her fingers over the pad at the bottom of the keyboard and Daryl saw the little black arrow on the screen move around to where her fingers directed it. "This will be your internet. This little apple here in the corner is where you shut it off. This right here is your power button."

She stepped aside so Daryl could take her place in front of it.

"'m really jus' gettin' this for my niece when she comes over after school. Prob'ly gonna waste her time, lookin' up Slender Man shit," he said and Beth laughed at that.

"Between me and your niece, we'll get you to be a computer whiz in no time," Beth smiled and Daryl looked at her and found himself smiling a little, too.

…

Daryl had never spent damn near $850 all at once before and with the laptop in its box securely in his arms, he and Beth left the store and he honestly felt a little unsteady.

"I know it's a lot," Beth said as if able to read his mind. "But it was a really good buy. Trust me. And it will last you a long time. I've had mine for almost five years now."

Daryl nodded and didn't say anything.

Thunder was rumbling now and the grey clouds had completely taken over the sky. The wind had picked up a bit, too, but any rain had yet to fall.

They walked through the sliding doors of the Whole Foods and Beth took the Coke bottle from her bag. Sure enough, there was a recycle can for glass and she gently deposited it in.

"Do you mind if we go in for just a second?" She asked.

"Course not," Daryl answered and she smiled as if she had been expecting a different answer and he held the laptop box tight to his chest, as if expecting someone to snatch it right out of his arms as he walked with Beth through the second set of sliding doors.

He followed her through the produce section, looking at the prices of everything, frowning when he saw a sign that announced that bananas were 10 cents each. Was that right? He could go to the other store and get a bushel of bananas for nineteen cents _a pound_. What the hell were so special about the bananas in this Whole Foods place?

On the other side of the produce section, there were a bunch of plastic bins filled with nuts and grains and Beth took a plastic bag, shaking it out before going to a bin of almonds.

"It's terrible that these taste so good and are actually pretty bad for you," Beth said as she dumped two scoops of the almonds into the bag and then took it over to a scale. "Don't you hate that?" She asked him.

"Yeah. One of those things that keeps me up at night," he replied dryly and Beth gave him a look that made him smirk in return.

"Well, I _was_ going to share some of these with you," she said as she twisted the bag closed.

"Pretty sure I can go to Aldi and get a bag of 'em for a hell of lot cheaper than what you're 'bout to pay for those," Daryl said as they walked, side by side, further into the store.

"These are organic," Beth then said as if that meant something to him.

Daryl snorted a little. "Was wonderin' why everything in here was so damn expensive. The things people waste their money on."

"He says, holding a brand new Apple laptop," Beth teased as she guided them down an aisle.

"Thought you told me this wouldn't be a waste," he frowned.

"It won't be," Beth laughed a little and her hand went to his arm, giving it a squeeze. "I promise you. You will definitely get your money's worth. And you have to have a laptop nowadays. Unfortunately, that's just the world we live in now."

His ears perked a bit. "Unfortunately?" He echoed the word.

Beth stopped in front of a shelving unit of chocolate bars. "I think the more information people have at their fingertips, it's actually, somehow, made us all a lot dumber. I can't say for sure just because I didn't live then, but I think I would want to live back when you had to rely on books for everything."

Daryl just stared at her.

Who the hell was this girl?

She worked in the law and he went around, breaking them. She shouldn't have had anything to do with him and he shouldn't have been discovering that somehow, they had things in common and what they didn't, they were still comfortable around each other.

"Why you doin' this?" Daryl blurted out and Beth turned to look at him with slightly wide eyes, surprised and confused by the question. "After I told you… why you here, spendin' time with me?"

Beth turned to face him fully. "Do you not want to spend time with me?" She asked.

And damn, but if she had a puppy, she looked like he had just kicked it.

"Course I do," he answered truthfully. "I jus' can't figure what you're gettin' out of it. Jus' don't feel like you should be spendin' your time with someone like me."

He wanted to physically pull the words from the air and shove them back into his mouth, but it was too late. He never should have said them. It had been a nice time today, spending it with her, and he had to go and ruin it.

"Oh," she said and he saw something dim in her eyes and she visibly swallowed, looking away from him.

Something passed over her he couldn't identify and suddenly, it felt as if there was some sort of invisible structure between them now.

After a moment, she looked back to him. "I'm going to go pay for these and then you can drop me off at home," she said.

"Beth…" he started to say, but he didn't really know what else to say besides her name and she turned, heading towards the checkout. He noticed she didn't get a chocolate bar and he wondered which one she had wanted.

He followed behind her, wondering why he had to open his mouth in the first place and question this; whatever the hell _this_ was. It had been good and comfortable and now, he had to go put his whole fist in his mouth and ruin the whole damn thing.

There were cards being sold at the ends of each checkout lane – boasting to be made from 100% recycled paper – and Beth lingered when she saw one, picking it up to read the printing on the front. Daryl was able to read what it said from the others on the display.

"Well, look who I ran into," crowed Coincidence.

"Please," flirted Fate, "this was meant to be."

Beth smiled faintly and took the card with her along with her bag of almonds.

He stood behind her as she paid and he tried to think of something to say, but nothing was coming to mind. He really wished he was like Merle. The man was never running out of things to say and seemed to have no problem with forever speaking his mind. When Daryl said what was on his mind, it always seemed to come out wrong and now, he had gone and hurt Beth's feelings and he didn't know how to fix that.

"Beth," he said her name again as they began heading across the parking lot towards the truck. The first drops of rain were finally falling, but it was still taking its time. "'m sorry," he said, figuring that was the best place to start.

Beth shook her head, but she still wouldn't look at him. "It's okay, Daryl. I'm the one who's sorry. I do this. I mean, I haven't for a while, but in law school, I did. I would spend time with people and I thought they wanted to spend time with me, too, and really, it was just me forcing myself upon them and not being able to read them better."

Daryl quickly shifted the computer box into one arm and grabbed hold of her arm with his other hand so she would stop walking; turning her towards him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He frowned down at her.

"It's okay, Daryl. Really." And then, she actually tried to get herself to smile even though he could see the hurt in her eyes as plain as day. "You can just be upfront about it and say you don't want to spend time together anymore. I get it. No big deal."

Daryl just kept staring at her.

"Honest," she said. "No big deal."

"That's the thing, Beth," Daryl said and shook his head slightly. "I mean, we don't even really know each other, but I feel like I wanna spend _all_ my time with you and I know I don't have the right to."

They stared at one another and neither moved and Daryl knew they were probably going to get hit by a car pretty soon if they just kept standing here and he heard a rumble of thunder getting closer, but still, neither moved to get into the truck.

"Daryl," Beth said his name, but then she didn't say anything else.

She stood on her toes, her hands found his cheeks, and she pressed her lips to his.

…

* * *

 **Beth's POV in the next chapter. I've been wanting to write something that shows their relationship grow instead of building towards it and then ending it as soon as they get together.(And yes, things happened to Beth in Law School that I will reveal later.)  
**

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I usually update _Survivor_ on Fridays, but my muse and I really wanted to write this chapter instead. I hope you enjoy it! I am falling deeper and deeper in love with writing this story. **

* * *

…

 **Ten.**

As Aiden went to go talk with Merle and Carol about having another private meeting in the Pine Cone with their client, Beth went to the table they had sat at last time to get herself set up, taking out a tape recorder and her laptop as well as the files for the case they had so far and last, a notebook and pen. She liked to type her notes, but she knew that Aiden preferred to write short-hand. And she also knew that Aiden was always forgetting his notebook so before they had left the office to come here, Beth had poked her head into Aiden's office and sure enough, she had seen it sitting on his desk.

In the hours between lunch and when people started getting off work, the bar was nearly empty as it usually was except for a couple of customers that seemed to be regulars. Naturally, Beth's eyes went to find Daryl and he was behind the bar as he always was, getting a refill drink for the regular that was usually sitting there, doing his crosswords.

Daryl then lifted his eyes and met hers from across the room and Beth watched as his lips gave the slightest of quirks and Beth knew him enough now to know that that was his smile. And seeing it, a smile bloomed across her own lips as her cheeks turned pink and her stomach did that somersault that was now familiar whenever she was around Daryl.

Two days later and she could still feel his lips on hers. The kiss had been hard – to start off with – but then, after they both got used to the idea that they were kissing, it softened considerably. Just thinking now of how gentle Daryl's lips had been on hers, Beth nearly started trembling all over again.

From the parking lot, they had finally gotten into the pickup truck when the rain started falling a bit harder and Daryl had asked her if she minded stopping at Taco Bell.

"A man after my heart," she had beamed at him and he had noticeably blushed at that.

He had gone through the drive-thru and they sat in the truck in the fast food restaurant parking lot, eating their tacos and listening to the rain drum down around them.

And then he had taken her home and she had wanted to kiss him again, but she had been so unsure about what the next move should be. She really didn't have that much experience with guys and Daryl was just _so_ different from the two previous guys in her life. She almost wanted to giggle at just how different Daryl and Jimmy were from the other. There was absolutely no comparison. At least, she hoped there wasn't. But even as that thought had the nerve to weasel itself into her mind, she knew that they couldn't possibly be. She couldn't imagine Daryl sleeping with her and then wanting nothing to do with her; only using her for a night or two and then tossing her aside like she was no one to begin with.

Would she and Daryl ever reach the point where they were ready to have sex?

Deep down, she hoped so. She had stayed far away from sex for the past few years – Jimmy doing a far greater number on her than she would ever admit to anyone – but the way she and Daryl just kissed – familiar and warm and so soft – she found herself thinking, for the first time in a very long time, of taking that step with a man.

"I can see you later, right?" Daryl asked, looking at her, but barely, as if he was too shy to.

Beth smiled instantly. "Of course."

And then, before her courage could flee her, she leaned across the bench seat, pressed her lips to his cheek in a quick kiss before hurrying from the truck and running up to her door.

Beth remained standing where she was as Daryl fixed a drink and then came out from behind the bar, bringing it to her. She smiled as he passed it into her hand and she saw that it was a whiskey and Coke – the drink he had made her during their last meeting with Philip. The last time he had made it for her, he hadn't made it strong at all – knowing her usual aversion towards alcohol – and it had been just what she had needed. She hadn't asked for it this time, but he knew that she would need it to get through this.

"Thank you," she said, looking up at him, feeling herself blush at his sweet gesture.

"Listen," Daryl said quickly, as if he had been building himself up to speak and the word had burst out of his mouth, unable to be held in any longer.

And for a second, Beth couldn't help but stiffen. That one simple word terrified her.

 _"Listen, Beth," Jimmy said, standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets. "I'm just not feeling it anymore, you know?"_

She found herself holding her breath now, waiting to see what Daryl would say next.

He was not Jimmy. He was not Jimmy. She echoed this to herself over and over again on a loop. What happened with Jimmy had happened so long ago. She was an adult with a good job and her own house and Jimmy was getting married. Was she really still going to think about something that had happened in high school?

"My sister-in-law usually takes the shift from now until six, when I get back to work for the night crowd," he said. "I was wonderin'… I'm a pretty decent cook and I don't know what time you get off your own work, but I was wonderin'-"

"Yes, I'd love to," Beth said before he could fumble around any longer.

Daryl looked at her for a moment and then smirked. "There you go, inferrin' again."

Beth laughed at that and his smirk slid into a little smile. "So, you weren't inviting me to dinner tonight?" She asked.

"I was. But you gotta give me time to get it out," he said, grumbling, but with no bite. "Wanna ask you proper and all that."

"I'm sorry," she said, laughter still in her tone. "Please. Continue."

Daryl looked at her for a moment; studying her and so intently, Beth could do nothing, but stand completely still under his gaze. No one had ever stared at her like that; like he didn't feel like looking at anything else in this world if she was standing in front of him. Of course, she didn't know if that was what he was really thinking. She was just guessing because his eyes were dark and intense and her stomach gave another somersault.

"I'll make somethin' special," Daryl then said as if he had just come to a particular decision.

Beth smiled and shook her head. "You don't have to do that. Making something special would give me too big of a head and make me think I'm someone important," she said and was just joking, but Daryl was back to staring at her and her smile slowly faded as she stared up at him.

She couldn't help but wonder when she could kiss him again.

The door chose that moment to open and Statesman Phillip Blake entered the bar with his ever-present bodyguard, Negan, behind him.

Beth took a deep breath and then turned away from Daryl to watch the man see her and stride towards her. She realized she was still holding her drink in her hand and she stepped forward, setting it down on the nearest table for the moment, before taking another step.

"Hello, Statesman Blake," Beth greeted politely with her hand extended.

"Beth," Phillip shook her hand. "Thanks for meeting me here. I know it's a pain."

"Not at all," she responded with a smile – a true smile. It wasn't a pain at all. She got to see Daryl. She, of course, did not say that out loud though.

"Hello, Beth," Negan smiled at him as he reached in, sliding his hand over hers, shaking it.

"Hello," Beth said, still smiling politely – though a bit more tightly – and her stomach clenched and it was _nothing_ like the somersaults Daryl gave her.

This man made her far more uncomfortable than Phillip Blake did – even after Beth had read and studied the report of what Phillip had _supposedly_ done to the woman who was going after him. Though Beth knew that there was nothing "supposed" about it.

Aiden came back then and shook Phillip's hand and ordered two beers from Daryl as he ushered everyone towards the table Beth had set up for them. Negan went to go sit at the bar and when Daryl came to their table with the beers, Beth gave him a small smile and Daryl gave her the slightest incline of his head before heading back towards the bar.

Soon enough, Beth was grateful that she was tape recording this meeting because she found that every few minutes, her eyes would wander over towards the bar to look at Daryl. For the first time while working, she found herself being distracted from the case and she tried to get herself to focus, but all she could do was look at Daryl in his Pine Cone tee-shirt that hugged his biceps so nicely and think about eating dinner with him.

She hoped no one – especially Aiden – noticed.

…

"Hey."

Beth lifted her head to see Maggie poking around the side of her cubicle and once she saw she had Beth's attention, Maggie came and pushed some folders from the chair to the desk to sit down. Beth didn't say anything as she took the folders to put them in a more safe spot.

"Want to go to the Pine Cone tonight?" Maggie asked. "I think Glenn is driving me to drink."

Beth smiled a little at that. "What is he doing?"

"Completely ignoring me," Maggie frowned, slouching down in the chair.

Beth, still smiling, moved her eyes back to her computer screen. Maggie definitely wasn't used to that and Beth honestly hadn't thought that there were guys who existed in this world who were actually capable of ignoring her older sister. Maggie just had one of those personalities. She demanded attention.

"And why is he ignoring you?" Beth hit the print button at the top of her screen and then turned in her chair to the little printer on top of the little bookcase behind her. She had bought it herself – printing off so much every day, she'd constantly be walking back and forth to the big printer from her desk and though it was good exercise, it got tedious.

"He doesn't know if I'm _sincere_ ," Maggie said, wrinkling her nose at the word as if she had never heard a more offensive word. "Whatever. He's clearly intimidated by strong women."

Beth turned back towards her desk and picked up her highlighter, her eyes scanning over the list of phone calls and marking each one at the particular time she was looking for. It was as she told Daryl. She didn't like this case because the more she researched and dived deeper into both defendant and plaintiff's lives from ten years earlier, Beth was more and more convinced that Lilly Chambler wasn't lying.

But as she also told Daryl, what could she do? This was her job. Phillip Blake had hired their law firm to defend him and Beth was supposed to help Aiden do just that. Innocent until proven otherwise. Just because things looked to be one way, maybe it wasn't like that at all. Maybe Lilly _was_ making up what happened in that hotel room so many years ago.

"So, what do you say?" Maggie continued. "Want to eat mozzarella sticks and be my designated driver tonight?"

Beth lifted her eyes and stopped highlighting to look at her sister. She gave her an amused smile and found back the urge to roll her eyes. "As tempting as that sounds, I actually already have plans tonight."

Well, technically, she had plans until Daryl had to go to work, but she wouldn't tell Maggie that. She was tired of sitting in the bar, waiting for Maggie to be ready to go home. Tonight, she was going to go to Daryl's apartment and they were going to eat dinner, and hopefully kiss again, before going back home to flail around like some insane girl and read a book.

"Going home and getting into bed at five o'clock and reading doesn't constitute as plans, Beth," Maggie said, struggling to not roll her eyes.

Beth couldn't help, but frown at her. "I actually have plans with someone."

She told herself to not tell Maggie about Daryl. If she did, Maggie would definitely go to the Pine Cone tonight and be so relentless towards him, making sure he knew that she was the older, protective sister and she would more than likely do or say something to embarrass Beth. She would probably tell Daryl that Beth didn't have that much experience with men so he better not do anything to break her or Maggie would break him.

Like Beth really wanted Daryl to know just how completely inexperienced she was.

And she could just imagine how she would be if Maggie found out that Daryl had served time. _That_ would really get Maggie being protective, whether it was called for or not.

But Maggie was looking at her right now and it was so obvious that Maggie didn't believe that Beth had plans with anyone and Beth felt her fingers tighten around her highlighter.

"With Daryl," Beth said, unable to help herself.

Maggie blinked at her for a passing moment. "With Daryl? _Bartender_ Daryl? How did you swing that?" She asked. Beth's frown was instant and Maggie quickly sat up, realizing what she said. "I just mean-"

"I know what you meant," Beth said and she knew it was childish, but she turned her head towards her computer screen, wanting to end this conversation before it could even begin.

"Beth, I didn't mean it like _that_. I was just surprised because he doesn't seem interested in anyone. I mean, I see women trying to flirt with him all of the time."

She knew what Maggie was wanting to say, but right now, Beth felt like being angry and she felt like purposely misinterpreting.

"Right. Apparently, he has his pick of any girl so why would he pick me?" Beth asked, still not looking at her and pretending to be busy with work, when in truth, she couldn't decipher a single word on the screen in front of her.

Maggie let out a stream of breath through her nose, reminding Beth of a bull before charging. "Don't be difficult, Bethy."

Beth opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Andrea poked her head around the side of her cubicle, peeking in.

"Hey. Do you have a moment?" Andrea asked her.

"Yes," Beth said, hurrying to her feet, not caring how eager she looked. She had to get out of there. Her cubicle was already small, but right now, with Maggie, it felt like both of them were trying to shove themselves into a shoe box. She paused in her scurrying away to stop next to the chair Maggie sat in. "Call me tonight if you need me to come pick you up," she said because Maggie might have annoyed her to no end, but she was still her sister.

Maggie nodded and looked up at her. She didn't say anything else and Beth followed Andrea out of the cubicle and down the carpeted hall towards her office.

"Is everything okay?" Andrea asked.

Beth exhaled heavily, feeling completely exhausted. "Sisters."

Andrea laughed at that. "Tell me about it."

…

Beth told herself that she had absolutely no right to do this. It wasn't any of her business. Daryl had already told her and it wasn't as if she didn't believe him. She had no reason to doubt him. He had been honest with her about what had to the biggest thing in his life and she didn't care. She really didn't and what she had said to him had been the truth. People made mistakes. They were people. It's what they did. As long as he didn't kill or rape someone… and it was obvious he was trying so hard to get his life back on track now.

Beth reminded herself of this over and over again even as she clicked open the program and her fingers typed _Daryl Dixon_ into the search box.

She didn't know what she was looking for. She knew he had a record. He _told_ her that. But being curious came with the territory of being a lawyer – even if she wasn't technically one.

Charged with criminal battery – and she frowned a little at that because that was actually a bit more serious than just simple assault. Simple assault was usually charged as a misdemeanor and even simple criminal battery was usually prosecuted as a misdemeanor. But Daryl had been sentenced to four years; out in two on good behavior.

She clicked on the file of trial notes. Not that there was much of a trial. Basically a sentencing since he pled guilty. He had a public defender; a man who had too many cases and not enough time, all working for too little money. Beth knew what kind of representation Daryl had received with a public defender. Representation left to be desired, that was for certain.

Daryl pled guilty and the judge had sentenced him to four years in the Western Georgia Penitentiary. That was quite a heavy sentence for criminal battery. Daryl's lawyer should have contested against that. Beth wondered if she would have been able to make it less for him. Maybe she could have even gotten him a probation sentence passed without him having to serve actual hard time in prison.

Probably not. She was a fantastic paralegal, but a paralegal was not a lawyer.

Beth glanced towards the clock in the corner of her computer. It was almost time to leave and head over to Daryl's. He had asked her to come around four-thirty, if she was able, and Beth had promised that she would be more than able to come at four-thirty. She usually got into the office around seven and worked a full day and Aiden and Andrea were actually pretty lax when it came to official work schedules. If a person didn't do their work, it wasn't as if they wouldn't be able to find out.

She had time to read a bit more and she clicked on the next file – and when she did, she couldn't help, but gasp when the photos popped up. The man, whoever he had been, looked like a piece of rotten fruit left out on the counter for too long. Bones were broken, skin was mashed, staples were holding his forehead together. What had he done to cause Daryl to have such a reaction towards him? She couldn't imagine the Daryl she knew – or was just getting to know – doing anything like this to another person.

Sometimes, he was so shy, he had trouble meeting her eyes.

And this man in the photos, Daryl had beaten him into a coma. A coma he was still in. The four-year sentence made a bit more sense now.

Her eyes scanned the report and she gasped again. Victim: Will Dixon. It had to be a relation of Daryl's. Will's name linked to another file of reports and Beth didn't hesitate in clicking on it. And where Daryl's file was the one case that had sent him away for the past couple of years, Will's file was quite extensive. She would probably need an entire day or two to read through everything; a sure sign that this man had been getting into trouble his entire life.

And he was Daryl's father. Daryl had beaten his own father into a coma.

Nearly to death, from the looks of it.

He was lucky he didn't get charged with attempted murder.

Beth clicked out of every window on her desktop as quickly as she could, feeling very much like Pandora at this moment and that she had just dared to peek inside of the box.

…

Beth wasn't sure why she felt nervous, but she did as she lifted her fist and knocked lightly on the door at the top of the stairs.

Soon after reading Daryl's file, she had shut her computer down and gathered her things, leaving the office and heading towards her car, where she sat for a few minutes, trying to push everything she had just read from her mind. She liked Daryl. She really liked him and the man she saw so often behind the bar – the man she had kissed – it just wasn't matching with what she had read on the screen. To beat a man almost to death, to beat him so viciously and violently, something that let everyone know that the person was capable of doing such a thing was sure to leak out and expose themselves.

Then again, Ted Bundy had been able to be completely charming to everyone around him before he was arrested for murdering dozens of women.

 _Not_ that Daryl was anything like Ted Bundy.

It was just…

She hated that she had let her curiosity get the better of her. It hadn't been any of her business. Daryl had served his time. He had paid his debt to society and he was out now, really trying to make himself a better life. She had seen that he hadn't missed a single appointment with his parole officer and had passed every drug test. He had gotten himself a job and he worked hard and before that happened, he hadn't had any sort of arrest record.

She thought of the man who had invited her to dinner; the man who gave her somersaults in her stomach. She couldn't believe that that man was capable of inflicting such violence upon another human being. But she knew she didn't know the whole story. Just glancing at his father's record, it was obvious to anyone that Will Dixon was far from being a saint. Not that that was any kind of excuse for his own son to beat him into a coma.

Beth sighed heavily and dug her fingers into her eyes.

Why did she do this? Why did she have to be so curious? Daryl had been honest with her and told her that he had served time and that should have been enough for her. That _was_ enough for her. She really liked him and she was fairly certain that he liked her, too. She shouldn't hold the past against him when he was trying so hard to leave it behind him.

And with a deep breath, she pulled out of the law office parking lot and drove to the Pine Cone Bar to have dinner with Daryl. No one had ever cooked her dinner before.

A few seconds passed after she knocked before the door opened and Beth seriously felt as if all of her breath fled her lungs. He was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt as he usually wore and behind him, the apartment was warm and she could smell food cooking and everything she had read that afternoon about him fled her mind.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hey," he said and looked at her for a moment before he seemed to remember that he should probably let her in and she smiled as he stepped back, ushering her through the door. "I can take that for you…" he said, gesturing nervously towards her coat and she smiled, taking it off and handing it to him, watching him hang it on the hook on the wall. There was only one hook and he jammed it on over his own jacket, making sure it stayed.

"It smells so good in here," Beth smiled, able to feel how nervous he was and her own nerves slowly faded. Her hand went to her stomach, realizing how empty it was since she hadn't had anything to eat since she had gone to T-Dog's food truck for lunch hours ago.

"I'm makin' pizza," Daryl said. "Is that… I saw at the grocery store, you bought some frozen pizzas and those are crap."

Beth laughed. "Pizza sounds amazing. You know how to make pizza?"

He nodded, moving past her to step back into the kitchen, and Beth followed after him, stopping in the doorway to watch as he went to one of the cabinets, pulling down a plastic cup. She saw that he had absolutely nothing in that particular cabinet except four plastic cups. He then went to the sink and turned on the faucet, filling it with water.

She smiled and took the cup he held out for her.

"Taught myself how to cook a bunch of things when I was younger," Daryl said with a short nod and he shifted his eyes away for a second before moving them back to her. "If I didn't learn how to cook, I'd just be livin' off fast food and that gets tirin' after a while."

"And it really adds up," she added. "There are people in my office who go out to Burger King and Arby's every day. It can get to be as expensive as a smoking habit."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Already got one of those. Don't need another expensive habit."

Beth smiled at him from around the rim of her cup and then couldn't help, but look around the apartment. It was the entire size of the bar that was below so it was a fairly large space. And she could see why Carol was wanting to take him shopping for things. He really didn't have anything except for a futon, a little coffee table – which his new laptop was resting on – and a television on a stand across from that. He didn't have a kitchen table, a spare chair or even a bookcase for the books that were simply in a few stacks beneath the window.

Unable to help herself, Beth crossed the room to see what books he had. She set the cup of water down on the coffee table and then lowered herself on her knees so she could look over the spines. A lot of the classics and a few nonfiction books on the Civil War and a couple on World War I. She paused when she came across a familiar one to her and she lifted her head to look back at him, seeing that he was standing behind her, watching her.

She took the book and got back to her feet, flipping through the pages of _A Farewell to Arms_.

"Had never read 'im before," Daryl said before she could say anything. "Figured I'd give 'im a shot since he's your favorite."

Beth looked back to him at his words. She didn't know what to say. She really didn't. He was making her pizza and was reading her favorite author just because he was her favorite.

She thought of Will Dixon's picture and she looked at Daryl standing in front of her.

Who was this man?

With no answers and without a word, Beth closed the space between them and once again, her hands found his cheeks and in her heels, she was a bit closer to his lips as she pressed hers to his. And this time, Daryl seemed to have been waiting for that because his arms closed around her almost immediately, holding her tightly to his body as he pressed his lips back against hers.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading! I hope you liked it! Please take a moment to leave a review.  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**To be honest, I don't know if I like this chapter or not.**

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…

 **Eleven.**

When they had been in the grocery store together and he had watched Beth put a couple frozen pizzas into her cart, she had told him that mushroom and green pepper were her favorite toppings, but they didn't have something that specific of an offering in frozen pizza selections, but anytime she and her older sister ordered a pizza from their favorite pizzeria, that was what they always got.

Daryl remembered her saying that so when he made her pizza, he was able to make her favorite. When the oven timer went off, Daryl went into the kitchen to turn the oven off. He didn't have an oven mitt and he grabbed the dishtowel and used that to take out the pizza pan he had borrowed from Carol. When he had asked, she had given it to him with something of a mischievous smile and he had wondered why the hell she was giving him a smile like that. It wasn't like she knew about Beth. No one knew about Beth. Hell, even he was still trying to figure this out.

He was never the kind of guy girls just walked up to and kissed and he had definitely never invited one over after spending the past hour, putting their favorite pizza together for dinner. This was all completely new to him and he felt completely lost and like he was just guessing it and winging it and hoping everything he was doing was the right thing.

But this must have been something right because when he put the pizza down on top of the stove to cool and Beth saw what he had made for her, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again. For never really having a girl kiss him before, he was getting used to it. And he was glad that he was getting used to it with a girl like Beth. With Merle as an older brother, he bestowed the advice onto Daryl that kissing a girl wasn't necessary to getting himself laid and kissing was too intimate and gave girls all sorts of ideas.

Daryl always thought that sounded so weird to him. If he was going to stick his dick in a girl, that was already pretty intimate. But he was used to Merle saying stupid things.

"Here." Daryl had a roll of paper towels on the counter and he ripped off a few and handed them back to her. "Don't want you to get any pizza on your dress."

Beth smiled softly as him as she took the towels as if she had never had anyone do anything as sweet as that. "Thank you," she said. "I should have gone home and changed before coming over here. Do you mind if I take my shoes off?"

"Course not," Daryl said. "Don't know how you walk in those anyway."

Beth laughed and leaned against the wall as she took one heel off and then the other. "I definitely need to wear flats more," she agreed. "I'm going to be seventy-years-old with the worst feet, but you won't believe how many times I still get confused for a Law School student. Heels make me feel like more of an adult. As stupid as that sounds."

"How old are you?" Daryl asked, realizing that he actually didn't know.

"Twenty-seven," she smiled at him. "How old are you?" She then asked.

Daryl couldn't help, but nearly cringe as he answered. "Thirty-nine," he mumbled, turning away from her, busying himself with cutting the pizza with the pizza rolling cutter he had also borrowed from Carol; wanting to keep his mind busy at the moment instead of thinking of how young this girl standing in his kitchen was when compared to him.

Just when he was beginning to tell himself that spending his time with her wasn't bad…

"It's not _that_ bad," Beth said with laughter in her voice. "My parents have almost a twenty year age difference between them."

Daryl wasn't too sure what to say to that. It seemed a _little_ bad. He just decided to not think about it and switch the subject. "Do you want somethin' to drink other than water?" He asked, turning towards the refrigerator, and he noticed that she was still holding her heels. "You can put those by the door, if you want."

Beth smiled and went to go set them down in the front hall before coming back into the kitchen. Daryl did his best to not look down at her bare feet or notice the fact that her toes were painted the same color as pink cotton candy.

"What do you have?" She asked and it took him a second to realize that she was referring to what drinks he had to offer her.

"Uh." Daryl shook his head in an attempt to clear his head. He opened the door to look inside – not that he had that much in the way of any food or drinks to offer. "Root beer. And water," he said and he wasn't sure why, but he felt embarrassed. He should have gone out and bought more so he would have more to offer to her.

But he looked at Beth and she was smiling.

"I would love a root beer. It has been forever since I've had one," she said.

Daryl took a can and handed it to her. She laughed a little and for some reason, it made his own lips move upwards into a little smile. He liked how she laughed; as if everything inside of her was spilling out, leaving her completely weightless. She laughed as if there were endless things in this world that made her happy and she found worth laughing about.

Without having to think about it, he already knew that he had never laughed like that before in his life. There had never been anything in his life that made him want to laugh.

"Could you…" she held the can out for him to take. "I have an irrational fear of opening soda cans. I was younger and at a church picnic with my family when I opened one and it exploded all over me and of course, everyone laughed. Ever since then…"

Daryl smirked a little and took the can for her, tapping his finger against the top and then pulling the tab. It opened without incident.

"'s long as you know it's irrational," he joked, holding the can back out towards her. Beth's mouth opened in a gasp – as if truly offended – and he smiled a little easier now.

Laughter bubbled from her mouth and Daryl watched as she came closer to him and then, standing on her toes, she gave him a kiss so quick on his lips, he only registered it once her lips were gone and she was pulling back.

Before letting himself think about it much more than the initial impulse, Daryl's hand curved around the back of her neck and he gently pulled her in for another kiss and he could feel her smiling against his lips – as if she was quite happy that he had showed such an initiative – before she seemed to sink against him, her body relaxing and her free arm slowly snaking up around his shoulders.

Daryl kissed her a little harder. He couldn't seem to help himself, but Beth didn't seem to mind. His lips pressed against hers and Beth pressed her own lips back against his with matching pressure. He couldn't remember ever being the first one to start a kiss. The girls in the bars he used to go to with Merle – in the times between Merle being locked up and then long before he straightened himself out and settled down with Carol – they were always the first ones to lean in and kiss him – whether he wanted them to or not. And every single time, he hadn't wanted them to.

Those girls had all been so forward, they had honestly always terrified him.

But when Beth kissed him, it never made him want to leap back and wipe his mouth and hurry away as fast as he could. Maybe because he wanted to kiss her as badly as she apparently wanted to kiss him. Maybe because he had never tasted anything that tasted as sweet as Beth tasted. He could imagine himself getting used to kissing her.

And then he wondered if that made him a moron for wanting to get used to it.

He was the first to pull – slowly – his lips from hers. "Don't wan' the pizza to get cold."

Beth smiled at him. "I am so excited to try it."

Daryl smirked at that and then slowly pulled himself completely away from her. "Don't get your hopes up too high."

"Of course I will," she said, still smiling, following him to the stove. He opened another cabinet and took down two plastic plates from his stack of four and he handed her one.

Daryl took a step back and let her get her pieces first. He watched as she took six pieces, piling them onto her plate, and she noticed the amusement that must have been on his face because she laughed a little, but said nothing as she took her plate and root beer, heading into the living room. He wished he had something other than a futon for her to sit on.

He thought of her house and how cozy and comfortable the whole damn place was. Maybe Carol wanting to take him furniture shopping wasn't the worst idea in the world.

After getting his own pieces, he came to sit down next to her and he smiled a little as he watched her tuck the paper towels into her collar so she didn't get anything on her dress and she sat with her legs tucked up beneath her and Daryl watched as she took the first bite, feeling nervous for some reason. It was just pizza and he knew that even if she didn't like it, Beth was the type of person to act like she did.

"Oh my gosh, Daryl," she said once she had swallowed and immediately went in for another bite. She finished her first slice in just a few bites and it was pretty impressive to watch. For such a little thing, the girl could wolf down food and there was something that he found damn attractive about that. "This is _so_ good," she said, beaming at him.

He realized he hadn't taken a bite yet of his own pizza and did so then. "Jus' pizza," he shrugged, trying to brush the whole damn thing off. It _was_ just pizza. Wasn't like he had fixed her some seven-course meal or something like that. It was pizza on a futon.

Beth leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Daryl cleared his throat. "Wanna watch somethin' on TV?" He asked, already leaning forward, taking the remote from the coffee table.

"Alright," she smiled. "Not the news though," she then quickly added. At Daryl's look, she smiled and shrugged. "Ignorance is bliss," was all she said.

Daryl smirked a little at that and leaned back, pointing the remote and turning on the television. He didn't have that many stations. He didn't really watch that much television except when Sophia came over and earlier that afternoon, she had been watching National Geographic with him so Daryl left that on with Beth.

They sat for a few minutes, watching a program about the wildlife in Siberia, and they ate their pizza. Beth got up to help herself to more and without him needing to say anything, she came back and dropped two more slices onto his plate as well. He gave her a little smile and she smiled warmly in return.

He wondered why he felt so comfortable around her; wondered how she could possibly be so at ease around a guy like him.

He was glad he told her. Relieved. He had been carrying it around with him and whenever he was around her, he felt like a hunchback, having to carry the weight around. And he knew Beth was a good person – it practically radiated from her – but he still didn't really understand why she seemed to be perfectly fine with the fact that he had served time. And it wasn't just in some county jail. But a maximum security prison.

This girl was the prettiest, nicest girl he had ever seen and she was here, eating pizza and drinking root beer with him and wasting her time. This girl could have any guy she wanted.

Daryl knew that he could probably ask Beth flat out why the hell she was there with him, but he already knew that whatever answer she gave, it would probably just confuse him more. But a part of him didn't want to ask because maybe calling attention to it would make Beth realize that she _really_ didn't belong there and she would leave.

And he didn't want her to leave.

They didn't talk much while eating, but that didn't mean that it was a heavy silence or uncomfortable. Actually, Daryl was pretty damn taken aback at how comfortable he felt, sitting with Beth – which only really added to his confusion because spending time with people besides his older brother and being at ease on top of it was just unheard of to him.

Between the two of them, they ate the whole pizza and Daryl took her plate and empty can of soda. When she began moving towards the counter, obviously to clean up, Daryl placed his hand on her hip and gently pulled her away.

"Nah. You don't do that," he shook his head and she smiled up at him, her cheeks pink.

"May I use your bathroom super-fast?" She asked him.

"Don't gotta be fast. I ain't timin' you," he said, joking, and she laughed lightly before following his finger to where he was pointing her.

But then, remembering something, he suddenly rushed past her, getting into the bathroom first and putting the toilet seat down; making sure the toilet was flushed, too.

His ears burned red as Beth stood in the doorway, watching him with a smile.

"You're a guy, living alone," she told him as if reminding him. "Your toilet seat is allowed to be up, Daryl."

He shrugged. "Didn' want you fallin' in."

Beth laughed again – that same light laugh. "You are so sweet." She came to him and standing on her toes, she kissed his cheek again and he felt like his ears were on fire.

Daryl left and the bathroom door closed with a quiet click behind him. He went back into the kitchen to start washing dishes and caught the time on his microwave. He had to be downstairs in ten minutes. He was actually feeling sorry that he had to go to work at all that night. He really just wanted to stay up here and hang out with Beth more.

"So, I have a question for you," Beth said as she came back into the kitchen.

He tried to remember how clean his bathroom was. And the only soap he had in there was the bar in the shower that he washed himself with.

At the sink now, he stepped to the side and showed her that he had soap there and Beth smiled, stepping forward to wash her hands. When done, he handed her the towel.

"Wha's the question?" He asked.

"So I was wondering, when do you have a day off from the bar? Or do you work every day?" She wondered and he watched as she folded the towel neatly and placed it on the counter.

"My schedule's kind of random," he said. "But 'm off tomorrow.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the art museum with me tomorrow night," she said and Daryl could have sworn that she almost looked nervous – for some reason – for having even wondered it in the first place. "It's not a huge place, but it's still a good museum. There's a lot of awesome stuff to look at. And they even have an Andrew Wyeth. I don't know if you would want to look at art-"

"That sounds good," Daryl cut her off, nodding his head.

It did sound good. He had never been to an art museum in his life, but he thought of the painting hanging in Beth's house and how much he had liked it and he wouldn't mind looking at more. He didn't even know if he liked art, but he was willing to find out – especially if it meant that he'd be able to spend more time with Beth.

Beth's smile was slow, making its way across her face. "Yeah?"

"Don't know much 'bout art…" he trailed off with a shrug. "But I wouldn't mind goin'."

Beth's hands reached for his arm, holding it. "So, tomorrow?"

He gave a nod.

"You can come meet me at my office and we can leave right from there. The museum closes at eight so we'll have plenty of time to see everything we want to see."

Her excitement was evident and it was making Daryl smile a little in response.

He got to spend another evening with this girl? Sounded pretty damn perfect to him.

He had his anger management meeting on Tuesday nights, but he was allowed to miss one.

Wasn't he?

Maybe he'd give Hershel a call to ask if he could and to see if he could maybe meet with the man one-on-one. That might be better. He knew the other people in the group were also there because they had served time and they _had_ to be there, but Daryl still didn't feel comfortable opening up to any of them and talking about why he beat his old man into a coma. Hell, he hadn't even really talked to Merle about it and all Merle had said was that he as jealous that Daryl had done it before he ever could.

He'd give Hershel a call first thing the next morning and hopefully, it would be alright if he missed a meeting. And even if it wasn't, he couldn't imagine himself not going to the art museum with Beth. Maybe he could ask Merle for a night off though he couldn't expect Carol to cover for him.

Beth suddenly pushed herself up on her toes and kissed him and this time, Daryl's reaction time was much faster. His hands lifted to frame either side of her head and he felt her fingers lightly curling around his biceps.

"I really like you," she said softly once their lips had parted. "I know it's too soon-"

"I really like you, too," he cut her off in a voice he thought was probably too gruff, but his words made her smile anyway.

…

So, yeah. He wasn't imagining it. The bar was a little crowded that night – for some reason, Monday was always a busy night for them – but he still noticed it.

Maggie Greene was definitely staring at him.

She sat at a table with a couple of friends, but while her friends were laughing and talking, Maggie was staring at him as he worked his ass off behind the bar. Every time he glanced over in even her general direction, he felt her eyes on him and it made him frown. He didn't have time to really think on it though. He was working and he figured she'd get up and come over here to talk to him if she wanted. Or if she wanted to just keep burning holes in him with her eyes, that was her choice, too.

He wasn't a genius, but he knew that Beth had probably mentioned him to her. He didn't know how he felt about that, but Maggie and Beth were sisters and sisters talked.

He mixed drinks and popped open bottles and swiped credit cards and got more napkins and extra cherries and straws when someone asked and he found himself able to do it all with most of his mind being occupied with thoughts of Beth.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow night. He really couldn't. Looking at a bunch of art might not be that bad though he honestly couldn't imagine himself understanding most of it. Some guy painted an upside-down triangle and said that it was supposed to represent the death of his favorite dog. Daryl imagined there would be plenty of that tomorrow night, but still, an evening of walking around with Beth and getting to listen as she talked and laughed, Daryl would be willing to look at a million upside-down triangles.

He lifted his eyes and finally, Maggie had left the table and was coming towards him. Daryl was sure to keep his face blank as he met her on the opposite side of the bar.

"Get you another?" He asked, nodding his head towards her empty glass.

She nodded and slid it towards him. He put the glass in the bin beneath the bar to be taken into the kitchen to be washed and got her a clean glass, mixing her another vodka and cranberry without needing her to remind him what she had been drinking. Despite the crowd, he usually remembered what the regulars liked to drink.

He plunked a straw into the drink and then slid it towards her.

"Thanks," she said and taking it from him, she began turning away, back towards her table.

"That it?" Daryl asked, unable to help, but be surprised. He was definitely expecting a threat of castration or something from her.

Maggie looked back at him and arched an eyebrow. "Do you need there to be more?" She asked. Daryl didn't answer and just kept looking at her, waiting. "Beth likes you," Maggie then said. "I don't need to tell you how lucky that makes you."

"You don't," Daryl agreed.

Maggie nodded her head once. "But I _can_ tell you that I've been taking kickboxing classes for the past three years." She took a sip of her drink. "That's all I will say about that."

Daryl felt himself smirking as Maggie turned once more and headed back to her table. That went better than he ever would have expected it to go. But then it occurred to Daryl that Beth probably hadn't told Maggie about him serving time, because if she had, Daryl knew that that conversation would have gone very different.

Even now, it went so smooth, Daryl could hardly believe that that was really it. It all seemed almost too easy and Daryl knew that in his life, nothing was easy. He wondered if that was Maggie's whole game plan. Make him feel relaxed and then strike when he's not expecting it. And he didn't blame her if that was the plan. He got it. Beth was the kind of person that a person would do anything to keep safe.

But he already knew that he would be damned if he did anything – _anything_ – to her.

Maggie could just use those kickboxing classes on someone else as far as he was concerned.

…

Every time someone came into the diner, the tiny bell above the door rang out and every time it did, Daryl lifted his eyes and when the person to finally walk in was Hershel, he sat up a little straighter in the vinyl booth the waitress had shown him to nearly thirty minutes before. When Hershel saw him, the man broke into a smile and headed his way.

"Hi, Daryl," Hershel smiled and Daryl slid from the booth to shake his hand. "Sorry I'm a little late. You haven't been waiting that long, I hope."

"No, sir," Daryl shook his head as they both sat down and the waitress appeared with menus and asking if either of them wanted coffee. Hershel turned his cup over so she could fill it, but Daryl ordered himself a Coke instead. "Thank you for meeting me here."

"Of course. And it all worked out because my daughter works in an office down the street and I decided to surprise her," Hershel said as he added sugar to his coffee and Daryl remembered that the man had mentioned at the last meeting that his sugar was too high – by his doctor's, wife's and daughter's standards – but Hershel, as he quoted, didn't give a hoot about that.

Watching him now, Daryl felt his lips twitching into a small smile.

"I bothered her longer than I was expecting."

"'m sure she doesn't mind though," Daryl guessed.

"Bethy?" Hershel chuckled a little. "No, she doesn't mind. She's too big of a sweetheart to mind when her old coot of a father comes to bother her at work."

Daryl felt his body still and he slowly lifted his eyes to look at Hershel sitting across from him. Bethy – who works down the street from here. She had given him the address to her law office before she left the night before and Daryl knew it was on this same street. Bethy. Beth. Who was too big of a sweetheart.

Daryl felt his throat go completely dry and the waitress returned just then with his glass of Coke, but even as Daryl took a greedy gulp, it didn't help.

Of course. Of fucking course. The girl he was kind of seeing now, and the girl he really liked, just so happened to have a dad who was his anger management counselor and knew he had served time. Of course. And it didn't matter that Beth knew about his record and didn't mind, because there was no way in hell that once Hershel found out that one of the guys from his meeting was seeing his sweetheart of a daughter, he would be fine with it.

"You alright, Daryl?" Hershel broke into his thoughts. "Looking a little nervous."

Daryl shook his head and took another gulp of Coke. "'m fine," he gave the answer that was as far from the truth as it could be.

He looked at Hershel and wondered why he had never noticed that Beth shared her dad's same blue – almost twinkling – eyes.

Of fucking course.

…

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 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I just want to write a story where these two have a relationship and fall in love.**

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…

 **Twelve.**

Beth couldn't help, but wring the museum pamphlet in her hands as they entered the Greek, Roman and Byzantine Art wing. Daryl hadn't spoken in nearly forty minutes, and yes, she was definitely keeping count. It was obvious that the art museum was the last place he wanted to be tonight and she didn't understand why he had agreed to come.

He had come to her office building and had waited for her down in the lobby and she had smiled widely when she had stepped off the elevator, seeing him sitting in one of the chairs across from the security desk and he had stood up at the sight of her, giving her the tiniest of smiles. They had decided to take his truck and then after the museum, he would drive her back here to get her car. Beth had asked him about his day and Daryl had answered, seeming to want to use as few words as possible, but Beth hadn't found anything off about that because speaking, she knew, wasn't his favorite thing in the world to do.

But now, as they walked into the wing, he wasn't speaking and Beth knew that it was more than him just not liking to do so. It was as if this was the last place in the world he wanted to be at the moment; and she was the last person he wanted to be here with.

"Um," she spoke and Daryl instantly looked at her. "I'll be right back," she said and pointed, feeling awkward, to the bathroom they were passing.

Daryl gave a nod and still said nothing as Beth walked into the bathroom, the heavy door swinging shut behind her. Once inside, she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and she went into the first stall though she really didn't have to go. Instead, with the stall door latched shut, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

Something had happened because just yesterday evening, he had made her pizza and they were talking and laughing and _kissing_ and now, tonight, he was acting as if being with her was some burden thrust upon him.

She almost pulled out her phone to google how to get out of a disastrous date, but instead, she left the stall and went to the sink to wash her hands even though she hadn't done anything. Beth looked at her reflection in the mirror as she patted her hands dry with paper towels and she was honestly going to be surprised if she came out of the bathroom and she saw that Daryl was still there instead of just high-tailing it out of there.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door and for a moment, she didn't see Daryl and her heart sank a little because even though she had momentarily thought it, she hadn't thought that he would actually just leave. She would have to call Uber to go back to her car.

But then, she saw him. He had wandered a bit further into the wing and was looking down at something on the floor, surrounded by glass.

Beth hesitated for a moment and then went to go back to him, her heels tapping on the marble floor of the otherwise empty wing. She knew what he was looking at. It was a piece of tiled floor from the Roman Empire, a mosaic design of a man standing in front of a bright sun, painted thousands of years ago. She didn't say anything as she came to stand next to him and she looked down to the familiar piece of art.

She wanted to ask him what was wrong – or if he wanted to go – and she felt herself gnawing on her bottom lip, trying to decide which words to speak first.

"'s pretty neat," Daryl spoke though, startling her.

She turned her head to look at him as he kept looking down at the tiles.

"To think of all those people who walked over this, thousands of years ago," he said.

Beth smiled a little and nodded her head, turning to look down at the tiles as well, seeing him from the corner of her eye, turning his head to look at her. "I imagine that all of the time. Next to the Modern American Art wing, this one is my favorite. They have marble busts and I love looking at them, imagining the people who posed for them and who they were and what they were like…"

Beth trailed off and turned her head, looking back to Daryl.

"I'm ordered by the State to go to anger management classes," Daryl blurted out. "'s a condition of my release and I just found out that the guy… we don't say our last names. And I just found out… your dad runs the thing."

Beth felt her eyes widen slightly. "Oh."

 _Of course_. Her daddy had been running anger management classes from the church basement for years now. Hershel rarely ever spoke about his childhood, but Beth was able to draw her own conclusions about certain things and her grandfather – Hershel's dad – had not been the best of men. Running those classes helped Hershel deal with his own past.

And it made sense that Daryl would have to attend such classes, given what his crime had been. She supposed she just never thought that Daryl would be in an anger management class with her daddy. And then she felt like an idiot for not thinking of something so obvious. It was just… Daryl was still such a new part of her life and she admitted that when she was with him, she didn't think of much else except being with him.

"Yeah," Daryl said and then pushed himself away from the glass, stepping back, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "So I think we should jus' stop seein' each other. It'll just be easier. "

"What?" Beth nearly yelped and her voice echoed through the cavernous room. "What are you talking about?" She took a step towards him. "Daryl-"

"Your old man works with felons, Beth," Daryl cut her off. "That don't mean he wants his pretty daughter seein' one."

Beth stared at him, a frown beginning to weigh on her face. "You don't know the first thing about my daddy. If you did, you would know he wouldn't think that."

Daryl didn't say anything to that. He just stared at her and Beth began feeling this knot forming in her stomach. She tried to think of something she could tell Daryl that would make him see that Hershel Greene was a good, Christian man and he believed in forgiveness and second chances – just as she did – and he would be able to see that despite things in his past, Daryl was a good man; just like Beth had been able to see.

She didn't know enough about Daryl and yet, she knew that she could talk until she was blue in the face about this and it wouldn't matter. Daryl didn't want to see her anymore because of who her father was and nothing she could say to him would change his mind.

She felt such a wave of sadness rush up her throat, she felt like she was seconds away from crying. She had hardly had him and already, she lost him and her heart physically twisted.

 _It'll just be easier_. For who?

"I'll take you back to your car…" Daryl began to say and in that second, Beth absolutely _hated_ him and how fine he sounded even when she felt everything in her chest crumbling.

She had had such a crush on him for such a while now and then, to get a taste of being with him only to have it snatched away seconds later, it hurt far more than she would have ever expected. She had the worst luck with men but for a while, she had been able to forget that.

Beth took a step back and shook her head. "No. I'm going to stay. I'll just call for an Uber when I'm done."

She knew Daryl didn't know what an Uber was, but she didn't feel like explaining it to him.

"Beth-" he began to say, but Beth didn't want to hear. He had already said enough. He was making assumptions and acting upon those rather than the truth and he didn't want to see her anymore so she didn't want to see him either.

"You could have told me all this before we got here," she snapped at him.

She then turned and without looking back at him once, she walked further into the wing, turning a corner and cutting off her view of him. She stopped to take off her heels and then headed up the stairs to the second floor, barefoot, so he couldn't hear her anymore.

She felt hot tears splash down her cheeks and she couldn't help, but hate herself a little as she wiped them away. She had gotten her hopes up, but… why? It had been too soon. They had kissed – and kissed – and spent time together, but what? Did she think she was in love with him? They didn't know nearly enough about one another to be in love already. Why did she have to be so emotional? Couldn't she just spend time with a guy she liked and just keep it on the "like" level instead of escalating it? She just always set herself up for hurt, acting like some teenage girl, unable to control her stupid heart.

No. She didn't love Daryl. Maybe falling… no. Not falling either. She refused to believe that. Especially when it was so easy for him to just put an end to this between them before it could even really go anywhere.

The Modern American Art wing was on the third floor along with the museum's café and Beth went there first, wanting to get herself something to eat for dinner though eating right now felt more like a reflex than anything else.

Hugging her heels to her chest, she took a moment to look over the menu on the wall.

She then stepped up to the register and ordered a thick slab of the chocolate cake and a Cherry Coke – _like an adult_ , she added to herself in her head.

With her dinner, Beth then sat down at one of the tables along the café's railing that overlooked the three story museum and looked over the pamphlet though she had this museum memorized and knew where everything was. After this, she would go look at the Andrew Wyeth and the few Edward Hopper paintings that the museum had and then she would go home. Yes, this had been a disastrous night, but she was not going to let anyone ruin the art museum for her. This was one of her favorite places in the world and no one – no matter how much it hurt her to think about them – would take that away from her.

Maybe… maybe she just wanted someone to love her so badly - and to love in return - she had the habit of trying to look for and find it anywhere.

Beth thought of Daryl, beating his dad into a coma and serving time because of it. Had Daryl been looking for love, too? Had his dad never given him any and that was Daryl's reaction?

She thought of his words. Yes, he was a convicted felon and had served time in prison but yet, he was a good man. She knew he was. Any man who took the time to not only find out her favorite pizza, but make it for her as well didn't seem like he could be a bad man.

Finishing up her cake and Coke, Beth slipped her heels back on and left the café.

It was quiet in the museum that evening. Tuesdays generally were. Thursdays were the nights that boasted free admission for city residence. Beth never came to the museum on Thursdays. She liked that people crowded the wings on those nights, but they seemed to rarely be appreciative of the art that surrounded them and were generally just too loud.

Although, right now, she realized that she would be grateful to be distracted by noise.

Entering the Modern American Art wing, Beth headed right to where the Andrew Wyeth painting was hanging, but came to a sudden halt when she saw someone already sitting on the bench in front of _Autumn Cornfield_. And as if he was able to sense that she had arrived, Daryl turned on the bench and looked at her.

Feeling her lungs burn, Beth exhaled a gush of air, remembering that she needed to breathe, and she wondered if she should go to him or not. Was he waiting for her or was she just getting her hopes up, wanting to see something that wasn't there? Maybe he had just come to look at the painting and would now leave that she had come.

She found herself holding her breath again as Daryl stood up from the bench and took steps towards her, closing the space in between them, until he stood right in front of her and Beth tilted her chin up so she could continue looking to his face.

Daryl visibly swallowed. "'m an idiot," he said, his words soft, but clear.

Beth looked at him for a moment, looking into his face. She was used to knowing what people looked like when they weren't telling the truth, but Daryl…

"You are," she agreed with a nod and he didn't at all look offended.

She was glad she had put her heels back on. It was much easier to put her arms around his shoulders and hug him and she closed her eyes when she felt Daryl's arms tighten around her waist. She reminded herself to not get her hopes up. She reminded herself to keep her feet on the ground right now, but Daryl squeezed his arms around her and off she floated.

…

"What are you all doing?" Sophia asked, skipping into her parents' bedroom. Her dad was sitting up on the bed, his legs crossed at the ankles, and her mom and Uncle Daryl were standing in front of the open closet doors.

"Your Uncle's got a date, so we're beautifyin' 'im," Merle teased with a grin.

Daryl frowned at him, but didn't say anything to argue it.

Sophia giggled and climbed onto the bed to join Merle, pushing away shirts that were in the way, and sat up on her knees, watching as Carol took another shirt from a hanger and held it up against Daryl's chest, tilting her head slightly to the side as she looked it over.

"I like that one, mama," Sophia said. "It would go really well with his eyes."

"She's right 'bout that, baby brother," Merle grinned. "You got yourself the prettiest set of baby blue eyes."

Daryl frowned at him, but again, he didn't say anything.

"Here," Carol decided. "Go and try this one on."

Daryl took the shirt and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"A date?" Sophia asked her parents with sparked interested. "Who is he taking out?"

"A girl from the bar," Merle answered.

"Oh," Sophia said, deflating slightly; a bit disappointed that his uncle was going out with a bar fly. Uncle Daryl deserved someone more than a woman who was always at the bar.

Merle read her mind and grinned, reaching out and ruffling her hair, grinning wider at her as she frowned and tried to fix her hair. "Not that kind of girl," he told her.

"Are you sure Beth said you could wear jeans?" Carol asked Daryl through the door.

"That's what she told me," was Daryl's muffled reply.

A minute later, the door opened and Daryl stood there as all three looked at him. He was wearing jeans – a clean pair with no holes – and the blue button down shirt, untucked and with the shirt sleeves already rolled up his arms.

"You look very handsome, Uncle Daryl," Sophia beamed at him.

"Thanks," he gave the girl a little smile.

"We need to do something with your hair," Carol said.

"'s fine," Daryl frowned, stepping quickly away from her before her hands could touch a strand of it on his head. "Thanks for the loan," he then said to Merle.

Merle grinned, sitting up and swinging his legs around the side of the bed. "You can thank Carol's Kohl's card for that. She's turnin' me into a clothes horse," he joked and Daryl felt his own lips twitching a little at that.

Merle came to stand in front of Daryl and Daryl stood still as Merle fixed his collar for him.

"All set," Merle gave him a smile and Daryl nodded, swallowing and lowering his eyes to the carpet. "Hey." Merle put a hand on the back of Daryl's neck and Daryl looked at him. "Don't forget. Stop by the grocery store and pick up some flowers for her ma."

Daryl nodded.

"But don't get red roses. That sends all sorts of wrong messages," Merle added. "And keep rememberin'. You ain't a criminal anymore. You served your time and you have as much right to sit at their table as anyone."

Again, Daryl nodded and didn't say anything. Merle clapped his hand onto the back of his neck again and gave it a gentle squeeze. Daryl forced himself to take a deep breath.

He was still focusing on deep breaths when he pulled up the dirt drive to Beth's house. Before he could turn the engine off, Beth was hurrying outside, giving him a smile, and even though she already told him that she was going to, he was relieved to see her wearing jeans. He leaned across the bench seat and opened the side door for her and Beth smiled as she climbed up into the truck.

"Hi," she said, slightly out of breath, and then leaned over, giving him a peck on the lips.

"Hey," he said. "You all set?"

"Yep," she nodded as she brought the seatbelt across herself. "You look very handsome."

He snorted and didn't say anything to that as he reversed the truck back towards the road. He looked at what she was wearing. Tight, dark jeans and black and white Converse sneakers and a purple and white plaid shirt, her hair pulled into a loose braid.

"You look beautiful," he told her quietly with the tips of his ears burning and Beth smiled.

"Thank you," she said and turned a little towards him in her seat. "Don't be nervous. You're not nervous, are you?"

"We're meetin' your parents. 'm not exactly calm," Daryl said as he pulled out onto the road and headed towards the restaurant Beth and her parents had chosen for this Saturday lunch, having looked directions up before coming to pick Beth up.

He had no idea how this lunch would go. Beth seemed optimistic about this and he didn't believe for a second that Beth would knowingly lead him into a firing squad. He had already tried to walk away from her and that had lasted for a grand total of five minutes before he pulled his head out of his ass and realized that he _couldn't_ walk away from her. He barely knew her, but already, he knew enough. She made him happy. He had never been happy before, but he recognized the feeling because since he didn't know what happiness was, he figured that this was what this foreign feeling was when he was around her.

And if he wanted to keep seeing Beth, he would have to meet her parents. It was just the way things were done. Girls like Beth were close to their parents and their parents were important to her and if Daryl wanted this to go anywhere – he didn't know where, but he wanted it going _somewhere_ – her parents would definitely be in the picture.

Especially Hershel.

Daryl was trying his hardest to not think of Hershel right now though.

"Give me your hand," Beth said and Daryl glanced at her before moving his right hand from the steering wheel and Beth gently took it into his. "We'll play a game. Guess what word I'm writing," she said and for a second, Daryl couldn't concentrate on anything except Beth's index finger lightly tracing into his skin and how that was having all sorts of effects on him.

The light they were sitting at turned green and he headed through the intersection as Beth continued moving her finger along his palm and he actually found himself focusing on it.

"I can't read cursive," he then had to tell her; too embarrassed to look at her as he did.

Beth just smiled faintly and began writing again; this time, printing whatever she wrote.

And after a moment, he figured out what she was writing and he smirked.

K-E-E-P-C-A-L-M

Beth smiled and then lifted his hand, pressing a kiss to the middle of his palm.

The Twin Posts Diner was like countless other diners. Small with the same greasy menu and the same kind of group of regulars. Daryl held the door open for Beth so she could enter first and he followed behind. Beth reached back and took his hand in hers as if she thought he might bolt away. And that was actually a possibility.

Beth's parents – Hershel and Annette Greene – were sitting at a square table in the center of the diner among other square tables and Beth led him towards them.

"Hello," Beth greeted and Hershel stood up, hugging her with a smile, though his eyes stayed on Daryl, and then Beth sat down in the chair next to her mom, both women leaning in and hugging one another. "Mom, daddy. This is Daryl Dixon. Daryl, these are my parents, Hershel and Annette," she said, smiling the whole time and he was hoping that if he focused on that, her smile would keep him calm, but honestly, it was just making him more nervous.

He had never met a girl's parents before and never did he think he'd be dating the daughter of the man who was in charge of his court-ordered anger management class. He knew he had every right in the world to feel as nervous as shit as he did right now.

It was unbelievable that Beth had gotten him to agree to a lunch with her parents.

"Hello," Daryl managed to say. "'s nice to meet you." He then held out the small potted cactus he had bought from the grocery store. It was stupid, he knew it, but all of the flowers that had been left had been wilted. Or had been red roses. And Daryl didn't want to show up empty-handed to meeting Beth's parents. "I, um, I got you this," he said to Annette.

What kind of idiot gave a cactus to the mother of the girl he really wanted to keep seeing?

Annette's smile was instant. "Oh goodness, Daryl. Thank you. I love it," she said and seemed to be genuinely meaning it and Daryl was both relieved at that and a little confused.

"Nice to see you, Daryl," Hershel said with a smile and firmly clasped his hand in a shake.

"Please sit," Annette smiled warmly, situating her small cactus in front of her.

Daryl found himself sitting in a chair across from Annette, between Beth and Hershel.

The waitress came to their table then and refilled Hershel and Annette's coffee cups and then asked Beth and Daryl if they wanted anything to drink. Beth ordered an Iced Tea and Daryl heard himself echoing the same even though he really didn't want one, but he couldn't think of anything else to order.

"Do you like catfish, Daryl?" Annette asked him as they all opened their menus. "Twin Posts has the best catfish in town. But they keep the bone in so you just have to be careful. Bethy nearly swallowed a fish bone when she was younger and has never been able to eat it since. It traumatized her."

"With good reason," Beth frowned.

"It _is_ unfortunate because eating catfish with the bone still in it is the only way to eat it," Hershel added.

"Fish fillets or nothing," Beth quipped and Daryl nearly smiled at that.

"I don't think I've ever tried catfish before," Daryl admitted.

"You and me will both get it," Annette decided. "Just don't ask Beth for help with the bone." Beth sighed and gave her mom a look, but Annette just smiled. "I'm only teasing you," she then informed her daughter. "You can't de-bone a fish, but if I'm ever arrested for murdering your father, I would want no one else defending me."

"I'm a paralegal," Beth said and Daryl wondered how many times she had to remind people of that. Maybe Daryl wasn't the only one who thought she should be a full-fledged lawyer instead. "I can't defend you. And there's also a conflict of interest with the whole defendant being my mother who murdered the victim, my father."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Beth," Hershel piped in. "If she hasn't murdered me yet, I think she might just be stuck with me."

Daryl listened as the three talked back and forth, teasing one another gently, and Daryl wondered if it was alright if he began to feel himself relax a little. He didn't know if he should though. Maybe they were just getting him comfortable before they attacked. There was just no way that _any_ parent would be alright with their daughter – young and successful like Beth – dating any guy like him.

"So, Daryl," Hershel said and Daryl found himself bracing for whatever was going to be said next. This was it. The interrogation would begin right now and he would leave this diner in just a little bit of time with a strict ban on seeing their daughter ever again. Daryl found his fingers tightening around the menu, looking at Hershel and waiting. "How's bar business?" He asked and Daryl looked at him as if he didn't understand what he had just asked.

But Hershel just smiled at him with those twinkling eyes of his and waited.

"Um… 's good. Busy. My brother is looking to hire another person to help me out," he said.

"Daryl works six nights a week until the bar closes at one," Beth then said and it almost sounded as if she was boasting.

"God rewards an honest day's work," Annette said.

Hershel nodded in agreement and Daryl looked at Beth as if he didn't really understand what was happening. Beth just smiled though and right there in front of her parents, her hand took hold of his and she didn't let go.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to leave comment!**


	13. Chapter 13

**My dogs, Baxter and George, did their thing where they woke me up at 3am to be let out and as I was trying to get back to sleep, the next chapter of this story popped into my head. I missed this story and I really just wanted thousands of words of Beth and Daryl being together and kissing. I hope you like it!**

* * *

…

 **Thirteen.**

Beth had just pulled the loaf of freshly baked bread from her oven when she heard the familiar rumble of the pickup truck coming up her drive and her smile was instantaneous as she quickly set the bread pan down on the potholder on the counter and took off her oven mitts.

She hurried from the kitchen to the front door, stopping to give herself a quick look in the mirror she had hanging on the wall; not that it mattered what she looked like. Not to him.

She hadn't changed since getting home from work and except for kicking off her heels and walking around barefoot, she still wore her orange dress and gray cardigan sweater. She had also thrown her hair up in a ponytail and now, quite a few strands were falling loose, but she didn't think to redo it. She kind of liked how it looked when it was messy like this.

It had been a few days since she had been able to see Daryl. Work had been crazier – their beginning trial date slated for two weeks from now and she and Aiden were working longer hours than before – and Daryl was busy training the new bartender Merle had hired. There was some good news though. Daryl now had two nights off from the bar. Tuesdays – which were the nights of his anger management classes with her daddy – and Thursday nights.

They had made plans for this Tuesday evening a week before in advance so both would be sure that their schedules remained free and clear and nothing would come in the way of it.

She opened the door just as he was coming up the brick path and the instant she saw him, she sighed with relief that he was really here and her smile only grew. Daryl looked at her through the screen door and he gave his own version of a smile – that little movement of his lips that he always did – and she unlatched the door, pushing it open for him. She stepped back as he stepped into the house and suddenly, anytime Daryl was in her house, the already small space seemed to be completely engulfed by him.

"Hey," he greeted.

And suddenly, all Beth wanted to do in that moment was kiss him. She was amazed and slightly taken aback at how much she felt an _ache_ for it. It almost scared her because she had never felt the need to kiss a man like this before. But she knew better than to fight it.

"Hi," she greeted softly – as if shy – and she then stood on her tip toes and her hands found a home on his cheeks and her lips pressed to his.

She almost sighed with relief against his mouth. She hadn't been able to kiss him in _days_.

Daryl reacted instantly – like she had been hoping he would. His arms slid around her waist and he held her body tightly against his and she felt a tug in her stomach – and between her legs – and that was the one that nearly shocked her. She hadn't felt anything like that in a long time because yes, there had been men she had been attracted to over the years, but they had been fleeting and she had never even really spoken to any of those men; too shy and knowing that _nothing_ would ever amount to anything between them. A reaction like that towards a man she found attractive was natural – or so she read online because there was no way that she would ever talk to Maggie about pulls and tingles between her legs.

But it had been a long since she had felt anything like that and while shocked, she realized that she wasn't entirely surprised by it now. Of course she would have that around Daryl.

Beth moaned softly as he kissed her a little harder and her hands slid back from his cheeks, her fingers brushing his hair back from his face and her fingers sliding through the too-long locks, but she hoped he never cut it short. It suited him and she happened to like it. A lot.

She had no idea how long they stood there, kissing one another, his tongue slowly entering her mouth, and then her tongue returning the action into his mouth, but her lungs were burning and Daryl slowly pulled his head back from hers, Beth letting out a whimper of protest. Daryl's arms remained around her waist though, as if not wanting to let her go.

"Gotta breathe, girl," he said quietly, obviously out of breath.

"I suppose," Beth agreed with warm cheeks, her own panting reaching her ears as she tried to catch her breath, and he smirked a little. "How was your meeting tonight?" She asked, and she was glad he hadn't let her go yet, because her fingers were still weaving through his hair on the back of his head and she couldn't move her eyes away from staring into his.

After eating with her parents at the Twin Posts Diner a couple of weeks earlier, Beth and Annette had excused themselves to go to the bathroom and at the sinks, side by side, washing their hands, Annette had smiled at her daughter in the mirror's reflection.

"He is quite a looker," Annette had commented and Beth had felt a warm blush sweep across her face, smiling shyly at that and having absolutely no reason to disagree. "And the way he looks at you anytime you talk is exactly how I want a man to look at my daughter."

Beth was surprised at that. "How does he look at me?" She had asked because she had no idea that Daryl looked at her in any way; especially in a particular way.

"Like you're everything," Annette said and just kept on smiling.

Beth's blush grew darker and she ripped a few paper towels from the dispenser hanging on the wall, handing them to Annette before taking a few for herself. "And his… what he's done… you and daddy are okay with it?" She dared to ask.

Annette tossed her paper towels in the trash and turned towards her. "It is not my place to pass judgment on anyone. But I see the man he is now and how hard he is working to keep his life now on the right track. I can't begrudge a man for trying to fix his wrongs. Is he the sort of man I imagined you bringing around to meet your father and me? No."

Beth had opened her mouth to speak, but Annette continued without giving her a chance.

"But I think that man out there needs you, Bethy," Annette said. "And I think that maybe you need him, too."

"It was fine," Daryl answered her now and she knew it wasn't his favorite topic of discussion. Daryl didn't like to talk much about anything, but she was fairly certain he only did because of her. "One of the ladies shared and then we did our breathin' exercises."

Beth gave him another kiss, this time on his chin – she loved how his facial hair felt against her lips – before she reluctantly stepped away from him, giving him a smile as she turned for the kitchen. "Breathing exercises? Like Lamaze that pregnant women do during labor?"

"I'll ask your ol' man at the next meetin'," he said and she smiled as she returned to check on the loaf of bread, seeing that it was cool enough and she turned the pan over, carefully catching the loaf with her other hand as it slid out.

Daryl closed the front door and turned the deadbolt lock and though she never told him that he had to, he stooped over, untying his shoes and toeing them off, setting them neatly next to the door.

"'s supposed to keep us calm. We count to ten and focus on our breathin'," Daryl said.

"I know," Beth gave him a soft smile. "I was just teasing. I shouldn't have-" she began to shake her head.

"Don't mind you teasin' me," Daryl cut her off. "Better than the alternative."

"What's that?" Beth asked curiously, not knowing herself.

"Not havin' you around at all," he said quietly, turning his head and staring at her piano as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world instead of looking at her; as if too shy or too embarrassed to meet her eyes right now, having said that to her.

Beth felt her own stomach flip and that slight ache between her thighs. She had tried to convince herself when they had been at the art museum that it was too soon to be falling for this man, but goodness. That was exactly what was happening here. And who could blame her? She had never thought of what her ideal man would be, but now that he was here, standing right in front of him, Beth knew that this was exactly what she wanted.

"I'm making BLT sandwiches for dinner," Beth said, finding her voice once more. "And I just baked a fresh loaf of bread for it."

Daryl finally looked back to her. "Damn, Beth. Didn't you work all day? How you find the time to bake bread, too?"

Beth smiled and turned to take the pack of bacon and head of lettuce out from the refrigerator. "I mixed it up this morning and then left it covered in the sun all day while I was at work." She shrugged. "I do it all the time."

Baking bread was one of those things she did to get her mind off of things. Some people ran for miles or went to go punch a bag like Maggie did to unload the stress of their day. Some people ate and some people went dancing. Beth baked bread. It had always worked for her.

"You need any help?" Daryl asked.

"Nope," Beth shook her head and gave him a smile. "I make my BLTs a particular way."

Daryl lifted a curious eyebrow at that and her smile grew.

She took the bacon out and then a knife and cut the pieces down the center. She then laid three pieces down and then, with a fourth piece, she then began weaving it through the three as if she was weaving a basket.

"What the hell you doin'?" Daryl asked and he sounded amazed and she smiled as she continued her work. Once she had a square of bacon strips, she then did the same with another square. One for Daryl and one for her.

Beth smiled, lifting her head to look at him. "This way, you always get a bite of bacon."

She turned towards the frying pan that had been heating on the stove and she carefully placed both squares down, the meat instantly sizzling and popping. She watched the meat carefully and admitted that she was a bit distracted so she jumped a little when Daryl suddenly appeared behind her. He didn't touch her for a moment and then his hands came to a hesitant rest on her hips as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to do that or not.

But he was. He definitely was.

Beth turned her head and smiled at him from over her shoulder to let him know that.

He leaned in then and her eyes fluttered shut as his nose nuzzled against her ear. He had never been quite this affectionate with her and she was quickly finding herself falling for it and she hoped this wasn't a one-time thing; that he would do this all of the time now.

His lips pressed to the corner of her jaw. "Thank you for makin' dinner," he murmured.

"Anytime," she whispered back and she had never meant a single word more.

She carefully turned over the bacon squares so that the other sides could cook and Daryl squeezed his hands gently on her hips before he stepped back. She heard him at the cabinet, taking down two plates and then going to her silverware drawer, taking out a knife. He then took it upon himself to cut up the tomatoes on the counter into slices.

"How was work?" Daryl asked and Beth smiled to herself because this was such a level of domesticity that she had never had with _anyone_.

Certainly not with Jimmy – just kids in high school – or with her boyfriend in law school. Actually, this with Daryl, it was her first adult relationship and yes, she was twenty-seven and she knew what Maggie thought about her life and how she was wasting it, but Beth was glad she had taken so long to have this with someone.

She wouldn't want this with anyone else other than Daryl.

"Well, Statesman Blake passed his polygraph," Beth said as she turned the stove off and then cut two slices of bread from the fresh loaf. She rolled her eyes and Daryl caught it.

"Wha's that about?" He asked her.

Beth shook her head as if she wasn't going to answer, but then she sighed heavily. "The man who administers the test, if we want Mr. Blake to pass, he passes. If we want him to fail, he fails it."

Daryl frowned. "What the hell kind of test is that?"

"And some people are just really good at passing the test whether it's the truth or not. It's why polygraph tests are rarely admissible in a court."

Cutting two more slices, she then retrieved the jar of mayonnaise from the refrigerator and for a few minutes, they constructed their sandwiches silently.

"Why even do it then?" Daryl asked.

"So we know our client is innocent," Beth answered with another eye roll.

The whole thing was a crock and nothing about this case was resting easy with her. This was the first time since getting a job at Harris & Monroe Law Offices did she truly hate a case they had. She was so tempted to go and talk with Lilly Chambler herself and interview her and get the real story; though she had a sinking feeling that she already knew what the real story was.

"Most think that if the police want you to take a polygraph and you refuse, it instantly makes you look guilty," Beth continued. "But people need to know that refusing a polygraph is your constitutional right because they can make the results anything they want." She turned and dropped the smear knife into the sink.

"I don't plan on bein' picked up by the police ever again," Daryl responded.

Beth spun towards him with slightly wide eyes. "Oh, Daryl. I know that. I didn't mean-"

Daryl moved his head in and pressed his lips to hers, cutting her off with a kiss.

"I know," he said once he pulled his head back once more. "I just wanna let you know that."

"I never thought otherwise," she told him, staring in his eyes, and she lifted a hand, brushing hair back from his face. She leaned in and kissed him otherwise. "Ready to eat?" She then asked with a smile.

"Starvin'," he said and together, they took their plates into the living room area and Beth set her plate down on the coffee table, returning a moment later with two bottles of Coke. She handed both to Daryl and then dropped to her knees, crawling to her television. "Which episode did we leave off on?"

"Can't still believe I'm watchin' this show," Daryl grumbled as he twisted the caps off of both bottles.

"You love it," Beth threw him a smile, teasing him. "Did you see Sarah Jessica Parker yet?"

"Who?"

Beth took the disc of _Project Runway_ and put it into her DVD player, grabbing the remote and coming back to sit beside Daryl on the couch. She picked up her plate and took a large biting crunch of her sandwich before selecting the episode on the main menu. This had always been one of her favorite shows and owned eight seasons of it on DVD. She didn't mean to force Daryl into watching it. He had asked her once what her favorite television shows were and she was also showing him episodes of _Pushing Daisies_ as well.

And she was learning that although Daryl grumbled about things, he didn't mind doing most of the things she liked. Going to the art museum, watching a fashion show on television. She wondered if he was doing it just because he thought it would make her happy or if it honestly really didn't bother him that much.

"Do you like your sandwich?" She asked, turning her head to look at him as he just took a large bite and he took a moment, chewing it and swallowing it down.

"'s the best BLT I've ever had," Daryl told her and she smiled, feeling proud at that.

After all, she took her sandwiches very seriously.

They watched the episode in silence and then Beth started on the next. By then, they were finished with their sandwiches and Cokes and the plates and empty bottles sat on her coffee table. She had shifted a bit closer to him and as her head found his shoulder, Daryl lifted his arm and slipped it around her shoulders. She closed her eyes and nestled a bit closer to him, just reveling in the moment of being held by him.

Had she ever been held like this by anyone?

She thought of the question although she already knew the answer. She could get used to this. She _wanted_ to get used to this; more than anything. Tuesday and Thursday nights were becoming her favorite nights of the week because even though she was able to go to the Pine Cone often and see him, he was working and she couldn't be his priority and they couldn't be alone. Tuesdays, he came here, and Thursdays, she went to his apartment and it was able to be just the two of them for hours without interruptions.

Again, she could feel the ache – a dull throb – between her thighs and she found herself biting on her bottom lip. To this day, she still regretted losing her virginity the way she did; giving into Jimmy in high school just to shut him up about it. That had never been how she had wanted her first time to be. And since then, sex had been the last thing on her mind.

Until now. Now, she had Daryl's arm around her, holding her close, and she knew what his tongue tasted like in her mouth and how his facial hair gently scratched her face and she found herself feeling an ache between her thighs and imagining what sex with Daryl would feel like. Did he think about the same with her?

Her older brother, Shawn, had informed her once that sex was all guys thought about. No matter what they were doing, sex wasn't far from their mind. Playing baseball? They were probably thinking about having sex with a girl on the pitching mound. Taking a math test? They were probably thinking about having sex on top of the teacher's desk. Going to church? Beth had cut him off at that one. She got the picture.

But Daryl didn't seem like that at all and if he was, he was very good at hiding it.

"'s men's wear really this damn difficult?" Daryl asked with a frown as he watched.

Beth smiled. "You men like your tailored things," she answered with a smile.

Daryl snorted a little. "'ve never worn a suit in my life."

Beth lifted her head from his shoulder so she could look at him. "Never?"

"Never had a reason to. Nowhere to go that had to have one worn," he shrugged. "Not like I work in some fancy law office surrounded with fancy lawyers."

"We're hardly fancy," Beth said and he smirked a little at that as he lowered his eyes to the dress she was still wearing. Beth rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. "Plenty of women wear dresses whether they _have_ to or not." She paused. "If I had something… my office has these dinners they host for different charities and I have no choice in going. But the next one we have, if I…"

God, she felt nervous. Daryl didn't say anything and he kept his eyes on her and she knew he wasn't stupid. It was obvious what she was going to say to him, but he didn't say anything; letting her say it first.

"Would you be willing to go with me?" She finally managed to blurt out quickly. "I don't know what the next one would be for or when it would be. They're in a hotel ballroom usually with an open bar and very good food. I never stay long," she then felt the need to quickly add. In fact, she was saying all of this so quickly. "I just make sure my bosses can see me and then I eat and then I slip out to come home. It wouldn't be that bad and I would never leave your side. And like I said, I'm saying this without knowing when the next thing like this is. I just thought…" she swallowed. "I just thought it might be nice if you came."

Daryl was silent, looking at her, and Beth was still learning all about him – including his silences. She couldn't read them and guess what they met because every silence seemed to be different than any others. She hoped that this would last long enough between them where she would get the time to learn.

"I'm gonna have to wear a whole suit?" He asked.

Beth's head shake was immediately and quick. "Just a shirt, tie and nice pants. No jacket."

Daryl was quiet again, thinking that newest piece of information along with the others. He thought of something else to ask after another moment.

"They know 'bout me?"

"Yes. They know I'm seeing a bartender from the Pine Cone," Beth answered and she knew that wasn't what he meant and no. No one knew about his past and frankly, it wasn't anyone else's business and even if it was, it wasn't her business to tell.

Another beat passed between them.

"A'right," Daryl finally answered. "When you find out when the next thing is, lemme know with plenty of time so I can talk to Merle about the schedules."

Beth burst into a smile and leaned back into him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daryl," she said in between peppering kisses all over his face and he let out a low laugh before he wrapped both arms around her, hauling her in as close to him as she could get.

She had never brought a date to one of the office's charity dinners though it was allowed. Plenty of other coworkers brought their spouses or significant others and Beth had wondered – more than once – what it would like to have someone there with her. It would probably make the evening much more tolerable; especially if Daryl was the someone who was sitting in the chair next to her.

He was reclined a little back on her couch and she was now practically on top of him and in her opinion, it was the perfect place to be and she wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Daryl here, in her house, on her couch. Just a few weeks ago, she never thought that he would have been here, like this. She had been resigned to the fact that her crush on him would never lead to anything. She would just watch him from afar – as she had on other crushes – and eventually, it would fade until it disappeared away completely.

Never had she ever thought that he had liked her the same amount that she had liked him. But for some reason, he did. He liked her. And it was wonderful.

Daryl lifted a hand to the back of her head. "C'mere," he murmured to her as he gently tugged her head towards his and Beth sank her lips happily against his.

They both tasted like bacon and mayonnaise and tomatoes and Beth wanted to kiss him forever. She closed her eyes and lost herself to his mouth, her lips parting when she felt his tongue brush across her bottom lip, asking her for permission and permission to enter was definitely granted.

She moaned softly and the cotton of his tee-shirt bunched between her fingers as he held on to her as he kissed her deeply. She felt dizzy and airy and if he didn't hold onto her, she was going to float right on away from here. And it was as if Daryl understood that because with one hand still tangled in her hair, his other arm bound around her waist, keeping her body sprawled on top of his and Beth wouldn't be able to move even if she wanted to.

Beth wanted to have sex with this man, no longer able to deny that to herself; not that she was ever really denying that to herself. She wanted to lay in her bed and she wanted to have him on top of her and she wanted to feel every inch of their naked bodies pressed together. She wanted to feel him _inside_ of her and feel his warm breath on her face as he rocked in and out of her body and she moved her hips in tempo with his.

She wanted to share everything intimate with him.

She also wanted to tell him about Jimmy and what happened all those years ago in high school and she was probably plain awful in bed and it was only fair to Daryl if she warned him ahead of doing anything like that with him.

What if she asked him to stay and he made up an excuse as to why he had to leave? What if he didn't want to stay? What if Shawn was wrong and not every guy thought about sex and Daryl didn't want that with her? What if he was just fine with making out and nothing more? Normally, Beth wouldn't mind that, but the more time she spent with Daryl, the worse the ache between her thighs became and he was the only one who could help with it.

She then oddly thought of Maggie – who was _not_ what Beth wanted in her mind at this particular moment, but she couldn't seem to help it. Maggie would be telling her to live a little. Step up to that cliff. Jump off and don't be afraid of what was beneath. For once in her life, throw caution to the wind and just go for it.

If she didn't, she would be left, just always wondering about the possibility of _what if_.

"Stay," Beth whispered against his lips before she had even realized she had said it.

Daryl grew still beneath her and Beth's eyes fluttered open. She pulled her face back just far enough for her lips to pull off of his.

"Please, Daryl. Please stay the night," she said, still in a whisper.

She couldn't remember ever feeling this scared before, but she also couldn't remember ever putting herself out like this before. It was terrifying. Within a second, Daryl now held absolutely all of the power and if he wanted, he could drop her down to the ground and she didn't know if she would recover from the fall.

A part of her was embarrassed to be practically begging this man.

If he didn't want to stay, she couldn't make him and he still wasn't answering; which was really the only answer she needed. But she refused to be upset. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood for something more. Or maybe he wasn't ready. Beth knew all about that and she respected it. If that was what it really was. She didn't want to think of the possibility of him just not wanting her like that.

But then, as if he had been able to peek into her mind and read all of her thoughts just then, Daryl all but yanked her head back to his and he kissed her as hard as he had ever kissed her. Beth knew she had just gotten the answer she had been waiting for; and hoping for.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Writing smut always stresses me out so much so I actually decided to write around it in this chapter, but I am determined to write an actual smut scene in the next chapter. On another note, writing this story, to me, is like being warm in my house during a snowstorm while drinking a cup of hot chocolate with too many marshmallows. Actually, there is no such thing as too many marshmallows.**

* * *

…

 **Fourteen.**

Just like in the rest of the house, Beth had more framed prints of paintings that Daryl figured were famous ones, but he hadn't really had time to look at them earlier and even if he had, he wouldn't know any of them. But now, he laid in her bed and was able to look around as Beth had slipped out, having to go to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. He could hear her puttering around in the other room as he remained, finally taking the time to study her bedroom as he had done the first time he had come into her house and looked at everything he could.

Her bedroom was small and yet, with everything in its proper place, it didn't seem that way. Her bed was soft and comfortable with mint green sheets and a white goose-filled down comforter. Her bed was the kind a person could sink into and never want to pull themselves from again. She had mentioned to him that her bed was one of her favorite places in the world and lying there now, Daryl could see why it would be.

He was pretty sure he had never laid in a bed this comfortable before.

There was a nightstand on either side of the bed with a lamp and on the nightstand next to him – he figured it was really Beth's side of the bed – there was an alarm clock and a stack of books. Daryl looked over the titles curiously, smirking to himself once he did. Girl lived by herself in the middle of nowhere and she read books on serial killers before going to sleep. Daryl didn't know if even he would do that.

"I have to tell you something," Beth blurted out quickly and she sounded breathless though Daryl really hadn't done anything more than just kiss her and run his hands down the sides of her body to rest on her hips.

Daryl looked at her, waiting for her to tell him to stop and get off her, but she looked up at him, and her hands lifted from his shoulders to brush back the hair that was hanging in his face and she gave him the faintest smile that he thought was probably one of the prettiest things he had ever seen in this shit world.

"This will only be my second time," she then told him. "My second time _ever_."

The more she talked, the redder her face became and Daryl stared down into her eyes, not too sure what to say. Hell, he _never_ expected to be in this position with her; lying with her on her bed, her breathless pleas of asking him to stay still in his ears.

"You know that man you saw at the courthouse lunch counter, talking to me? The ex-boyfriend who cruelly crushed my eighteen-year-old heart?" Beth asked and then continued without waiting for an answer; one of those questions that were asked, but didn't really need an answer. "He was my first. My _only_ time. He broke up with me a few days later."

Daryl finally spoke, frowning. "Are you shittin' me?" He growled.

Hell, if he had known that, he would have punched the string bean when he saw him that day. And run the risk of breaking his parole and being shipped back to prison to serve out the remainder of his sentence.

"So, if I'm really terrible at this, I just wanted to explain why," she managed to finish, her face all, but on fire now.

"'s been a long time for me, too," he said, trying to give her some sort of comfort though he was still learning how to do that because he had absolutely no idea how to comfort anyone.

But it didn't seem to have the effect he wanted because Beth almost groaned and she covered her face with her hands.

"I'm sorry," she apologized in a rush. She shook her head quickly. "I didn't even… I wasn't thinking when I…" she trailed off and wouldn't take her hands from her face.

Daryl almost smiled as he gently pulled her hands back himself so he could look at her again. "I didn't mean just 'cause I've been locked up. I meant it's been a long time for me, too, 'cause this was never my favorite thing in the world to do."

"Oh," she had said and he saw her blush fading, but some of it still clung onto her cheeks. She swallowed then and her hands returned to his face, brushing hair back for him. "We don't… if you don't want to."

Daryl didn't know if there was an answer to that, to be honest. He didn't know how he would be able to tell her that hell, yeah, he wanted this, because even though he thought it, he wasn't really the sort to say things like that.

Instead, he just kissed her and he felt Beth smiling against his lips before she kissed him, too, and her hands slid back through his hair, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, and he sank his body down a little bit more on top of hers, feeling himself relax.

And an hour later, Daryl didn't think he had embarrassed himself too bad. She came before him so at least that was an accomplishment. Nothing like being a seconds-long kind of guy.

A few months ago, when he stepped out of the prison, free after two years to breathe in the free air, and the gate rolled shut behind him and Merle was there, waiting for him with a grin, Daryl never would have ever thought of himself to be in a position like this. Lying in some comfortable bed that belonged to the nicest, prettiest girl he had ever met; a girl who shouldn't even want to let him touch her with a ten-foot pole, let alone actually let him into her bed and let him in _her_ ; a girl in love with the law and who went to law school and he had to go piss in a cup twice a month on state's orders.

It didn't make any sense to him and didn't even seem that real and yet, he didn't want to question it. If he did, he would just ruin it and this was one thing he didn't want to lose. He had just gotten her and he wasn't looking to lose her.

It was scary as shit to him – how much he wanted to keep Beth in his life. Daryl couldn't think of anyone besides Merle who had been in his life that he liked being there. But now he had Merle and Carol and Sophia and Beth, too.

And already, Beth was pretty much everything.

He sank a little bit further into the bed and reached over, taking the top book from the stack on the nightstand. It was paperback and the spine had been cracked more than once. It was her own copy. Even smelled like her, he noted, as he flipped through the pages. It was a book on the Green River serial killer out in Washington and she had read it more than once. Daryl almost smiled. Who was this girl who read the same book on a serial killer more than once? He had never met anyone like her before.

He began reading the first page and halfway through the second, he lifted his eyes when he heard Beth come back into the bedroom. She had thrown on a tee-shirt and a little pair of pajama shorts with strawberries on them and she smiled when she saw him looking.

"I brought you one, too," she said and he saw that she was holding two Coke bottles.

She climbed back up onto the bed and he was distracted for a moment, looking at her legs; the legs that had been wrapped around his hips just a few minutes earlier.

"Thanks," he finally remembered to say and took one of the bottles from her and she smiled, taking a sip from her own. He then held up the book and raised an eyebrow as she kept smiling. "What the hell you doin', readin' this before bed?" He asked her.

Beth laughed softly and sitting up, resting her back against the headboard, she took the book from him. "He was initially charged with forty-eight murders, but later, he was credited with ninety. And many think that number's even higher. Do you know his name?"

Daryl thought for a moment, realizing that he didn't. He shook his head and took a sip of his Coke, also sitting himself up next to her.

"Isn't that amazing? A man who takes this many lives and few can spout out his name like Ted Bundy or John Wayne Gacy."

"It's… somethin'," he agreed, but sure if amazing was the right word.

"Gary Ridgeway," she then said. "He mostly murdered prostitutes and transients so I think that that's why so many just don't care because who cares about people like that?"

Daryl was quiet at that. Beth sometimes – all of the time – intimidated the hell out of him. She was so damn smart and what did he have to say to someone like her?

"You know what I would love to do if I ever had the time?" Beth asked as she handed the book back to him and he took it, flipping it towards the pictures in the middle so he could look at what this guy looked like because he didn't know that either.

"What would you love to do?" Daryl instantly looked to her.

This girl might have intimidated him, but that didn't mean that he didn't want to know every single thing about her.

Beth smiled and took a sip of Coke. "I want to write a book on the victims."

"Victims of him?" Daryl asked, turning the front cover of the book towards her.

"Yes. Or another killer's. We always know and remember the killer's name. Few ever remember their victims and what kind of backwards world does that mean we're living in?" Beth asked and again, Daryl had no idea what to say to that.

He guessed he had never really thought of it. On the other hand, he normally didn't spend his free time thinking about and reading about serial killers.

He slid the book back onto the stack on her nightstand before looking at her again. The lamp was on and it was the only light on in the room, giving off a sunset-like soft light and it shone on her and he could have sworn that she was glowing. Daryl looked at her and it was still so hard to believe that he had just had sex with this girl. He had felt her all around him. He felt how wet and tight… he felt her warm breath on his face and her fingers on his back. He hadn't thought he would take his shirt off, but he had and she still had yet to ask him about the scars that riddled his back. But maybe she wouldn't ask. Maybe she knew that he wouldn't talk about those scars until he was ready to.

"When are you goin' to write this book?" He managed to ask while hoping that he was hiding the fact that he was thinking about already when they could have sex again.

What he had said to her was true. Sex was never his favorite thing to do, but having an older brother like Merle, who constantly pushed girls towards him all of the times they used to go out, having sex with them had just been a way to get Merle to shut the hell up.

He had always hated being that close to another person.

But with Beth, he felt a burning in his fingers and he knew he just wanted to touch her again. He wondered what she would do right now if he was to reach out and touch her leg or her arm or just her finger; any part of her.

"I obviously have to do a lot of research," Beth was thinking out loud, breaking into Daryl's own thoughts. "I would have to decide the victims I was going to write about and track down some family and hope they would want to talk with me." She looked to Daryl with a small smile. "Would you be up for taking a research road trip with me?" She asked.

Daryl slowly moved his eyes away from her, staring at the bottle between his hands. "I'm not able to leave the state. Not until I'm off of parole," he said and felt embarrassed that he had to say such a thing around her.

Beth leaned in then and surprised him by placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "We have to wait before going on a trip anyway. I have no idea what I'm going to write about," she said and Daryl turned his head, blinking at her. She gave him a small smile. "Writing a book is so much easier said than done. And who knows if I'll even do it."

Daryl just looked at her and didn't say anything. What the hell could he say to her? He knew that she probably wouldn't understand, but when he was with her, he felt like Daryl. Just Daryl without any other type of word after his name to further describe him. And to Beth, that's who he was. Daryl. And when he was with Beth, he was realizing that that's who he could be without trying to be anything else. He wasn't some white-trash redneck or an ex-con out on parole.

To her, he was just Daryl.

And Daryl was learning that Beth's opinion was pretty much the only one he cared about.

Still without a word to her, he turned and set his Coke bottle on the nightstand and when he turned back towards her, Beth was smiling as if she knew exactly what he was going to do. Daryl's own lips twitched upwards into a little smile as he reached his hands and touched her face, her cheeks; hesitant. Beth was the one to close the space between them and she pressed her lips against his firmly and this time, Daryl smiled against hers.

…

"Are you lookin' up porn, girl?"

Sophia lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm offended that you even _thought_ to ask me that," she quipped before looking back to the Apple laptop she had balanced carefully on her thighs.

She was clicking the mouse pad quickly and Daryl came back from the kitchen, bringing two cans of ginger ale and a bag of cheese puffs with him. He sat down next to her on the futon and leaned in to see what she was doing. At least she didn't close the screen as soon as she knew he was looking, so he figured that she wasn't looking at anything too bad.

"Wha's that?" He asked, putting a puff into his mouth as he looked at the webpage.

"This is Pinterest and it's the greatest thing ever," Sophia said with a proud smile. "See?" She clicked on something at the top and it took them to another screen. "This is my page. And these are my boards." She clicked on one that was titled _Love of My Life_ and Daryl looked at the page that was suddenly filled with a bunch of pictures of some guy he didn't recognize. He looked at Sophia, the question silent. "This is Zayn Malik. I'm going to marry him," Sophia then smiled. "I mean, I know I'm not _really_ going to marry him, but it's such a lovely dream to have," she said, releasing a dreamy sigh, and Daryl smirked a little at that.

"Got no idea who this guy is," Daryl said and Sophia was already going to YouTube. She brought up a music video and Daryl watched, not even able to get through a full minute before he was closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Stop. I can't take it," he said.

Sophia rolled her eyes and clicked out of the video site, going back to Pinterest. "You sound just like my dad," she said and began looking at more pictures of this Zayn Malik guy. "Isn't he beautiful?" She then asked, sounding all dreamy again.

Daryl snorted and grabbed the television remote from the coffee table, leaning back into the futon and turning on the television. "Looks like he's got about twenty different STDs."

Sophia didn't comment on that, but she reached a hand out and smacked him in the arm.

Daryl smirked and took a guzzle of ginger ale. They were quiet for a few minutes – Sophia surfing on Pinterest and Daryl surfing through the channels, stopping on an episode of _Criminal Minds_ , and he immediately thought of Beth. He wouldn't be surprised if she loved this show. He would ask her next time he saw her – which would be tomorrow night on his other day off of the week. Or tonight if she came to the bar after work. He hoped she would though he knew that she was working overtime with that case about to go to trial.

"Are we going to still be camping out?" Sophia asked, her eyes still on the computer screen.

Daryl glanced towards the laptop screen again and saw that she was now looking at pictures of Slender Man. He took another cheese puff from the bag and Sophia took one, too, munching on it.

"Yeah, we're still goin'," Daryl said. "You still wanna go?"

Sophia leaned forward and slid the laptop onto the coffee table and then brought her legs up to her chest, wrapping one arm around them and eating the cheese puffs with her other hand. She looked to Daryl and he flipped the channel once the show ended and another he didn't care about started. He began searching for something else to watch.

"Dad said that you and him used to go camping all of the time when you were younger."

Daryl shrugged. "Wasn't like campin' like the way you think of it," he said. "Sometimes, we didn't even have blankets. Just went out and stayed in the woods for the night."

"Why?" Sophia asked and he looked over to her.

Something told him that she already knew the answer, but he answered anyway.

"A lot of the time, bein' out there was better than being home."

Sophia nodded and took another cheese puff. "When we go camping, we're going to do camping right, Uncle Daryl. Tents. Sleeping bags. And s'mores. We need to have s'mores."

Daryl smirked a little at that. "You got it. And after we get done eatin' s'mores, we'll go hunt for your Slender Man."

"Can't wait," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "Is your girlfriend going to come?" Sophia asked and the question was innocent enough, but it made the cheese puff freeze in mid-air, halfway to Daryl's mouth.

Girlfriend. Was that what Beth was? His girlfriend?

Don't be stupid, Daryl, he frowned to himself. Of course that's what she was even if neither of them said it; or never said it. They've slept together. He always wanted to be around her and the days when he didn't see her, they felt like they dragged on forever. She had been coming into the Pine Cone for months, but he was just now starting to get to know her and every new thing he found out, he couldn't get enough.

"If she wants to," Daryl shrugged, answering Sophia's question. "Actually don't know if she's an outdoors girl. Know she lived on a farm, but bein' a girl on a farm can be a hell of a lot different than bein' a boy on a farm."

Sophia sipped her ginger ale. "I hope she wants to come. I really want to meet her."

"Yeah, I need you to meet her," Daryl agreed. "Got to make sure that I got your approval," he said with a slight smirk towards her and Sophia giggled.

"Do you love her?" She then asked him.

Again, her question made him still.

Love? Daryl could honestly say that he had no idea because that was something that he _never_ even considered. He didn't know the first thing about love. How the hell could he? Wasn't like he had any shining examples of what love was and should be in his life.

But even if he did know every single thing there was to know about love, he would figure that it was way too soon to feel that about Beth right now. He liked her, that was for damn sure. Liked her so damn much. He wondered if she liked him just as much.

She had to, right? Beth wasn't just the sort of girl to fall into bed with anyone. The fact that he was only her second time _ever_ showed that and even if he wasn't, Beth still wouldn't be the kind to lead him on and act like she did around him if she didn't like him.

"Don't know," Daryl spoke and took another cheese puff. "Might be too soon for that."

"Romeo and Juliet fell in love the first second they saw each other," Sophia pointed out.

That made Daryl smirk and he shook his head. He stopped on the weather channel to check out the forecast for the next five days; not that meteorologists knew anything. He was better at telling what weather was to come just from looking at the sky in the mornings.

"If you're gonna be talkin' to me about love, you prob'ly shouldn' be startin' the conversation with those two," he told her.

"Why not?" Sophia frowned a little. "Romeo and Juliet is _so_ romantic."

Daryl couldn't stop from rolling his eyes. "Christ, girl. Two kids who ain't even eighteen yet think they're in love and five people die 'cause of it. That ain't love. That's hormones."

Sophia just frowned at him.

"We're goin' back to the library and we're gettin' you some real books on love if that's what you wanna read about," Daryl said.

Sophia looked at him for a moment and then broke into a smile. "Uncle Daryl, do you read romance novels?" She asked and she was smiling at him as if that was the best thing she had ever heard.

Daryl took another cheese puff. "What the hell else was I gonna do for two years?"

…

The bar was crowded that night for the two dollar draft special it ran on Wednesdays, but Daryl had made sure that Beth's stool was empty when she came in after work. She gave him a bright smile and ordered the Beth sandwich for dinner – the warm corned beef and Swiss cheese on an onion roll sandwich – and he made her a Shirley Temple to have with it.

After seeing to everyone else wanting drinks or refills of pitchers, by the time he got back to her, her sandwich was gone and her glass was empty and she was on her laptop, her fingers flying over the keys, clacking away. He would never understand how she was able to work and concentrate on her work when the bar was loud like it was tonight. Some girls from the college were taking turns with the karaoke machine, singing Fleetwood Mac songs – and singing them not well.

"Hey," Daryl says as he gets up to her. "Want another?" He asks as he takes her plate and glass away.

Beth shakes her head and after another moment, she lifts her eyes from her laptop to look at him standing in front of her, on the other side of the bar. "I think I'm going to do something really stupid and I haven't decided if I want you to try and talk me out of it or not," she said and Daryl found himself smirking a little.

"Alright," he said and turned, leaning back against the shelves of liquor bottles and crossed his arms loosely over his chest, looking at her. "Lay it on me. What are you gonna do?"

Beth paused and then with a sigh, she closed her laptop. "I think I'm going to go talk to the woman who my client is suing for libel."

Daryl thought that over for a second. "Why you gonna do that?" He asked.

She let out a sigh. "Because I think what she said about the Statesman is completely true and I… I might want to help her."

Daryl about _that_ over next. "Can't you get in trouble, goin' over to the other side like that?"

"Yes," she answered without pause. "But I… I have to talk to her. Hear the story from her own lips rather than what Statesman Blake says about her."

"But if you're gonna get in trouble…" Daryl trailed off, not really sure what else to say. "Why do you wanna know?" He then wondered though he knew he shouldn't waste the wonder.

"Because it's the right thing to do," she answered with what he knew she would. "What's the point of me loving the law if I don't do everything to uphold that law? We're trying so hard to prove libel, but what if all I'm doing is silencing the truth?" Beth shook her head and swallowed. "I couldn't live with myself happily if I helped slander an innocent woman."

Daryl stared at her for a moment and then shook his head slightly as if he could hardly believe that he knew this girl at all; let alone knew her intimately. "I wished I knew you two years ago," he said.

Beth smiled a little at that and shook her head. "I'm not a lawyer, Daryl. You know that."

"I know that. I just meant, that if I knew you two years ago, I probably wouldn't have needed a lawyer in the first place."

Beth looked at him and her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but she didn't say anything; not too sure what to say to that, and Daryl admitted that he hadn't really been expecting himself to say anything like that.

"Do you think I could go upstairs?" Beth asked suddenly. "I want to keep researching and those girls are absolutely destroying Fleetwood Mac."

Daryl smiled a little at that. "Yeah. I should have offered that earlier." He had a single key on a ring in his back pocket and he pulled it out, dangling it out in front of Beth. "Make yourself at home," he told her as she slid down from the stool and took the key before beginning to gather her things. "And if you're still up there after closing-"

"I was hoping I could spend the night," Beth said, quickly, boldly her cheeks pink. "I don't mean to invite myself-"

It was his turn to interrupt. "Invite yourself whenever you want, Beth," he said. He then thought of something else. "I don't have a bed. Just a mattress…" he hated having to say that because Beth was a girl who deserved a damn bed and he suddenly hated that he had turned down Carol all of those times she had wanted to take him furniture shopping.

"I just need you," Beth smiled at him and then standing on her toes, she leaned across the bar, but she couldn't reach him and Daryl closed the space between them and leaned in, dropping his lips to hers.

He watched as she gathered her things and tossed her laptop bag strap onto her shoulder.

"Oh. 'fore I forget, I wanted to ask you somethin'," he said and Beth looked to him, waiting. He smiled a little, wondering why he still felt so damn nervous around her sometimes. "Do you like campin'? I'm takin' my niece and I want her to meet you."

Beth looked at him for a moment and then broke into that pretty smile of hers that was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. "I love camping."

…

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 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review! (I'm very excited to write the camping trip)**


	15. Chapter 15

**I love this story so much and I have missed it. This is one of my favorite versions of Beth that I have written. I hope you like this chapter! It's been too long, but I'm already diving right into the next chapter.**

 **I also have the next idea for my next AU story, but I wanted to finish this one and _Blue Ridge_ before I begin another story. **

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**...**

 **Fifteen.**

When Beth stepped out of the shower, she continued humming the song she had been humming, standing beneath the spray of water, and she wrapped the towel around her body as she went to the mirror, wiping her hand across the steam-coated surface.

Daryl had gone slightly overboard after she spent the night for the first time and he realized that she had brought all of her things with her. A towel and her shampoo and body wash and even a loofah to use in the shower as well as her toothbrush and a hairbrush. When she came back for the second time to spend the night and went into the bathroom, she had stopped in her tracks when she saw everything that he had done.

"Daryl," she said his name, but wasn't able to say anything past that.

On the counter, he had bought a toothbrush holder and there was his toothbrush paired with a brand new purple one. He had a new hairbrush set out as well and even a stick of the same deodorant she used. And in the shower, she saw a white loofah hanging from a hook attached to the tiled wall and there was a caddy with bottles of the shampoo and conditioner brands she preferred as well as a bottle of the body wash that she always used.

"Think I got everythin'," he said from behind her and then gently slipped past her so he could step into the small bathroom. "And under here," he opened the door of the cabinet beneath the sink, she saw that he had a stack of fresh and fluffy towels. When he lifted his eyes to look at her and saw that she was staring at him, he shrugged a little and rubbed the back of his neck. "Carol came shoppin' with me," he said. "I like havin' you stay with me here and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable while you're here."

Beth quickly shook her head at that and approached him, standing on her toes and slipping her arms around his shoulders. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," she confided in him, staring into his eyes, and she wondered if his own heart was tumbling about in his chest like her own felt right now.

"I jus' went to a store," he mumbled with his ears turning red, but his arms slipping around her waist and she knew that he knew how much this gesture meant to her.

She gave him a small smile and kissed him softly on the lips and Daryl was the one to lift his hand, cupping the back of her head and kissing her a bit harder.

And now, this morning, Beth was feeling clean and refreshed and she kept humming as she brushed out her hand and she could smell eggs cooking even though she had told Daryl last time that he did not have to cook her breakfast. He worked late at the bar and she got up and began getting ready for work at six in the morning. He could sleep and not worry about her, but she should have known that she telling him that would fall on deaf ears.

She turned and opened the bathroom door, allowing the rest of pent-up steam to release into the hallway and she took a moment to look at her reflection. She wondered if she looked any different. She liked to imagine that she did. She was twenty-seven years old and was obviously an adult, but for the first time, she actually _felt_ like one and she knew it had everything to do with that man in the kitchen, making her eggs for breakfast.

They hadn't said they love one another, but Beth knew what her feelings for Daryl were and she could only hope that his own feelings were close to hers. When she was in high school and had been dating Jimmy, she knew she hadn't been in love with him – which made her having sex with him and giving her virginity all the worse, in her opinion – and she knew that she had never been in love with any man before. Until now. She knew that if she was ever going to be in love with anyone, it would be with Daryl.

Tightening the towel around her body, Beth left the bathroom and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Even though it was only her second time spending the night in his apartment, Daryl had already given her a drawer and Beth went there now to get slip on a clean pair of underpants and clasp on a bra. She then went to the closet where she had hung up the dress she had packed and brought with her to wear today to work.

Just as she was slipping it on and bringing the zipper up, there was a soft knock on the door. With a smile, she went to go open it for Daryl and it was Daryl standing on the other side, however, his expression made her smile slip from her face. He looked angry and embarrassed all at the same time.

"What is it?" Beth asked, instantly concerned.

Daryl looked at her for a moment and then shook his head slightly, his eyes dropping down to the floor so he wouldn't look at her anymore. "My parole officer's here," Daryl mumbled. "Surprise home visit."

"Oh!" Her eyes widened slightly. "Alright. Does he want us both out front?" She asked.

"Yeah," Daryl said, still mumbling. "He said you could eat breakfast though 'fore work."

"Alright," she said again and gave him a small smile though Daryl still wasn't looking at her and was already turning away, heading back down the hallway towards the living room.

Following after him, Beth hurried into the bathroom for her brush, hand towel and bobby pins before heading into the living room, too. Daryl's parole officer, Shane Walsh, stood there with his badge on a chain around his neck and a clipboard in his hand.

"Ms. Greene," Shane nodded politely to her. "'m sorry about this."

"It's alright," Beth smiled politely at him. "You're just doing your job. I can eat my eggs?" She then asked, just wanting to make sure even though Daryl had already told her she could. She didn't want to do anything that could possibly cause any trouble for Daryl.

Daryl was already in the kitchen, scooping the scrambled eggs onto a plate and taking the two slices of bread from the toaster.

"Yes, ma'm," Shane smiled at her. "You have a very sweet boyfriend, cookin' you breakfast."

"Don't I?" Beth smiled at that and looked at Daryl, but it was as if Daryl was doing everything possible to avoid her eyes.

With the plate and a fork, Daryl gently pushed it into Beth's hands and then moved past her, sitting down on one end of the futon and Beth sat down on the other end. She may not have known this man for such a long period of time, but she was no idiot. Daryl's entire body was tense at the moment and he was pretending he was anywhere else right then. Or maybe he was wishing she was. He was embarrassed that his parole officer had come here while she was here, too, and she wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but Beth also knew that that would be the absolute last thing Daryl would want to hear right now.

So instead, Beth sat on the futon and quietly ate her fluffy eggs and crunched on her toast and didn't pay attention to Shane as he went through Daryl's things – and she supposed her things, too – searching for any type of illegal contraband that was nowhere in the rooms.

Once finished, she slid the plate onto the coffee table and began drying her hair with the towel and brushing it and styling it without a mirror, twisting some of front locks back from her face and pinning them back with the bobby pins.

She looked over to Daryl as he kept his head turned, staring out the window with a clenched jaw. She wished she knew what she could say to him right now to let him know that this was alright. It wasn't his fault. Well, _technically_ it was his fault that he had a parole officer, but it wasn't his fault in the least that Shane had surprised them both with a visit that morning. There was no reason to be angry or embarrassed. She was neither and she didn't want Daryl to sit there, convincing himself that she was judging him at all for this.

"All good," Shane said, coming back into the living room, having finished his search of the bedroom, and he signed off on a piece of paper. "Any questions for me?" He asked. Daryl stood up and shook his head and Shane gave them both a smile and nod of his head. "You both have a good day. Daryl, I'll see you next week."

The whole visit and search had taken a half hour, if that, and Shane left, leaving behind him an absolute silence that seemed to thump in Beth's ears as if she was listening to a musical beat. She looked to Daryl once more as he came to pick up her plate and carry it back into the kitchen, but he still wasn't looking at her and she wished that he would.

Unsure herself of what she should say to him, Beth trailed after him into the kitchen. He stood at the sink, washing out the frying pan he had scrambled the eggs in, and she went straight to him, slipping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his back.

Daryl instantly stiffened beneath her touch. "Beth," he began to say, but Beth swiftly cut him off. She knew Daryl well enough and she knew that this was probably the time when he began to push her away or worse, break up with her completely.

"It's going to take a heck of a lot more to get rid of me, Daryl Dixon," she told him plainly.

A beat passed and Daryl began slowly turning towards her. Beth loosened her arms enough for him to, but she kept her arms around his waist, tilting her chin up so she could look into his face and she saw his hesitancy in both his face and his hands, but finally, he lightly rested his hands on her hips.

"You deserve someone better than some crummy ex-con, Beth," Daryl said in a quiet voice and his eyes were still having trouble meeting hers.

Beth frowned a little. "Is that what you think I see when I look at you?" She wondered.

"I don't know what the hell you see when you look at me," Daryl said, almost mumbling, and Beth stood up on her toes, removing her arms from around his waist so she could wrap them around his shoulders, pressing herself tight against his body.

"I just see you, Daryl," she whispered, staring into his face, willing him to look at her.

And finally, he did. And when he did, she gave him a soft smile and stared into his eyes. The words were on the tip of her tongue and she wanted to speak them to him. _I love you_. She had no idea what his reaction would be and maybe this morning – after Shane's visit and Daryl's anger and embarrassment over it – wasn't exactly the right time to say that to him.

But maybe it was the absolute perfect time and it was exactly what he needed to hear.

Would he believe her if she did say those three words to him?

Daryl still hadn't told her anything about his past. She knew about his brother, Merle, but that was probably only because she was considered a regular at the bar and Daryl had told her that Merle had cleaned up his own act before settling down and becoming a respectable business owner. But as for him, he told her what he had been in prison for, but nothing more than that. He didn't talk about his childhood or why he had beat his own father into a coma. Daryl didn't even know that Beth knew that he had done that to his father. But chances were that if Daryl had beat his father like that, Daryl had grown up, having absolutely no idea what love or being loved felt like.

She had a feeling that if she did tell him that she loved him today, he wouldn't believe her.

"You'll be careful today?" Daryl broke through her thoughts and his hands squeezed her hips ever so gently.

Beth smiled faintly at that. "I'm just going to be speaking with a woman."

"I mean it, Beth. Promise that you'll be careful," Daryl said and his hands tightened on her hips. "She's the woman accusin' your client and no offense, but I don't get the best vibes whenever that statesman's 'round the bar."

"No offense taken," Beth smiled at that because she shared the same exact vibes when it came to Statesman Blake and even his bodyguard, Negan. "And yes, Daryl. I promise I'll be careful. And discreet. I don't exactly what to be shouting to my bosses that I'm doing this."

"And you're sure you gotta be doin' this?"

Beth didn't hesitate in nodding. "Yes. I can't…" she paused a moment and swallowed. "I can't help defend a man when I know that he's guilty. I know what people say about lawyers and how we're soulless, but I don't want to be that kind of person because I believe that one day, I'll have to answer for myself and what I've done with my life."

Daryl stared at her so intently after that, she was the one to lower her eyes, not able to look into his any longer. It hadn't been her intent to think that _she_ was judging him for what he had done because that hadn't been what she had wanted to do at all and he had already atoned for what he had done wrong.

"Is that why you never took the bar exam to make yourself a lawyer?" He asked in a quiet voice and she nodded, beginning to slip her arms away from him, but Daryl was the one to hold on now, his hands sliding from her hips and his arms circling around her waist.

She rested her hands on his biceps and nodded again. "In law school, we would have mock trials and we would all take turns at prosecutor or defense and it was always so hard for me. I'm absolutely in love with the law, but some of the stories of the clients our law professors would use, I just had a hard time stomaching them and thinking of a way to actually defend certain people. And it was terrible of me because I was passing my own judgement on them. I'm doing it again with Statesman Blake.

"That's why I didn't take the bar exam and why I didn't become a full-fledged lawyer. I knew I wouldn't be a good lawyer because if someone came to me who really needed my help… the last thing a person needs is a lawyer judging them instead of helping them."

Daryl was so quiet after that, but his arms remained tight around her and she finally lifted her eyes to look at him again and he was already staring at her, having never looked away.

"I'd think there are people who'd be lucky as hell to have you helpin' 'em," Daryl said.

Beth smiled a little, desperate to break the heavy mood that was hanging in the apartment. "Speaking from experience?" She said, teasing.

Daryl didn't smile, but just kept staring at her and slowly, he lowered his lips to hers.

…

According to the file she had on her, Lilly Chambler lived in an older white house with her daughter, Meghan, and sister, Tara. Beth parked on the curb and looked to the house for a moment. It may have been in one of the older sections of homes in the city, but the people who lived here cared for it and loved it. The cracks were clean of weeds and there were pots of yellow and orange mums on the steps leading to the front door.

Hugging the file to her chest, Beth climbed the steps with a nervous flutter in her stomach. The front door was open and through the screen door, she could hear the television on somewhere inside, turned to a cartoon. Taking a deep breath, Beth raised her fist and knocked gently on the frame of the screen door.

No one except Daryl knew that she was going to be coming here. Aiden or Andrea certainly didn't know. Beth knew that if they did find out, there would be serious repercussions. She would likely lose her job over this and she absolutely loved her job and she was darn good at her job and her bosses valued her. It paid well – very well, which she admitted, could at times be very nice – and she knew that a normal person wouldn't be going out, looking to jeopardize any of that.

If she _was_ found out and she was fired from Harris & Monroe, maybe it was time she went to the city attorney's office and tried to get a job with them. They were prosecutors and maybe for Beth, that would be easier than trying to defend people she didn't necessarily always believe in their innocence. She knew that everyone was entitled to a fair trial. That was everyone's right as a citizen of this country and it wasn't fair to have someone like her on the team if she couldn't help give the best defense possible.

She knew. Innocent until proven guilty, but with Statesman Blake, that was proving difficult for her to remember.

"Can I help you?" A woman with dark hair and pale skin came to the door, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt and looking at her, Beth knew that this was Tara rather than Lilly.

"Hi," Beth gave the woman a warm smile. She knew that Tara was currently enrolled in the police academy. The Chambler family had been subjected to a thorough background check. "I'm Beth Greene and I'm with the Offices of Harris & Monroe-"

"What the hell do you want?" Tara interrupted, a fierce scowl twisting at her face.

"I was hoping I would be able to speak to Lilly Chambler," Beth said, having expected this.

She could only imagine what Statesman Blake had already put this family through since Lilly made her accusations against the man public; and even before that.

"What could you possibly speak with her about?" Tara demanded.

"Tara." Lilly appeared next to her sister. "It's alright." She then looked through the screen to Beth and Beth did her best to smile and not show how nervous she was. "May I help you?" She asked in a tone a bit kinder than Tara's and Beth noted how tired she looked. Lilly was an oncology nurse and usually worked nights. She had probably just gotten home and Beth wished that she had timed her visit a little bit better, but she had only been able to get away from work for a little bit this morning – just telling Aiden that she was out, researching – and the last thing she needed was anyone having suspicions about her true whereabouts.

"I'm sorry to just drop in unannounced like this," Beth began. "But I was hoping I could speak with you. I'm working on the defense team for Statesman Blake and… well," Beth visibly swallowed. "I was hoping to talk with you and get your side of the story."

"You already know her side," Tara frowned. "Read the first article printed in the newspaper about this whole thing. _That's_ the truth."

Beth and Lilly continued looking at one another and then Lilly reached out, unlatching the screen door and pushing it open, silently inviting Beth inside. Beth smiled at them both as she stepped over the threshold.

"Would you like some coffee?" Lilly asked.

"I would love some," Beth nodded.

"Meghan, could you turn that down?" Lilly called out as she walked down the hallway past the living room and Beth followed with Tara following them both.

Beth glanced into the living room and saw a young girl sitting on the couch and she obediently lifted the remote, turning down the volume on the television as her mom had instructed.

In the kitchen, Lilly waved a hand to the kitchen table and Beth went to sit down, setting her file folder down in front of her and Lilly took three mugs down from the cabinet and filled them with the coffee brewing in the pot. Tara got the half and half container from the refrigerator and the container of sugar and Lilly brought the three mugs to the table.

"Thank you very much," Beth smiled and Lilly sat down across from her and Tara sat down in the chair next to her sister. She added a bit of sugar and a little bit of cream and took a sip. Then she set the mug down and safely to the side before opening the file in front of her.

"So, what did you want to ask?" Lilly began the conversation and Beth was grateful for that because she wasn't entirely sure how to go about it herself.

"Well, I suppose my first question would be, why did you wait so long to come forward with your story? This supposedly happened years ago and you just now went to the papers. Why did you wait so long?" Beth asked, watching her closely.

A normal person – no matter how well they thought they could – had trouble hiding it if they were in fact telling a lie. There was always some little movement that gave them away. The tiniest flick of their eyes. Picking at their fingernails. Even the slightest shift in their seat. Anything and everything could give a person away.

Lilly seemed perfectly calm though and took a sip of her coffee. "Afterwards… he offered me money. A lot of money. I was a nursing student. I had loans. He said I could have the money if I never talked about what had happened in that hotel room. And I took it. I took the money." Lilly stared at her with a sadness in her eyes. "That's why I've been silent. I took the money and I didn't think I had any business telling anyone. I was just as guilty."

Beth shook her head. "There is no comparison to you taking money and what that man did to you."

Lilly lowered her eyes and took another sip of coffee. She swallowed her sip. "And then, so many years had passed and I saw that he was going to be running for Georgia Governor and I just couldn't stay quiet anymore. Even though I knew the defense would tear me apart, I was hoping that at least with the story out there, it would taint him – even just a little bit."

Beth nodded in understanding.

Tara leaned forward a little. "So you believe her?" She asked – almost demanding.

Beth hoped that Tara was working on curbing her emotions a little before becoming a police officer, but Beth didn't dare tell the woman that. She understood that Lilly was her sister and if this was Maggie in Lilly's position, Beth knew that she would be just as fiercely protective – if not more so.

"I do," Beth nodded her head once, strongly and confident.

Lilly sighed with relief and seemed to sag in her seat. "Thank you," she whispered.

"So, what are you going to do to help?" Tara asked.

"I have no idea," Beth answered truthfully. "But I'll think of something and I'll let you know. But first, in your own words, could you tell me exactly what happened between you and Statesman Blake in that hotel room?"

…

Beth tried to get her heart to stop pounding in her chest because it was hurting, but no matter how hard she tried, she felt as if she couldn't breathe. She had never hyperventilated before, but she was fairly certain that this was it – her breathing short and shallow and she couldn't seem to catch it.

 _"911. What's your emergency?"_

Beth forced herself to speak. "Hi. I just got home and my front door is wide open. I think someone broke into my house, but I don't want to go in to check for myself."

 _"Where are you currently, ma'm?"_ The dispatcher asked.

"I'm sitting in my car with the doors locked. Could you please send a policeman to check it out before I go inside?"

 _"Stay right where you are, ma'm, and do not go into the house. I've dispatched the closest unit and they will be there with the next five minutes_."

Five minutes. That was an eternity.

"Thank you."

After ending the call with 911, Beth clutched her cell phone and stared at her open front door, almost taunting her with the blackness of her house inside. She made sure the doors of her car were locked for the countless time and she tried to focus on her breathing.

She didn't _know_ for certain that someone had broken into her house. Maybe there was another explanation. Maybe the wind had just blown open her door. Sure, Beth, she nearly snorted to herself. There hadn't been any wind over the past couple of days – especially a wind strong enough to blow open her heavy front door that she always securely locked.

What if whoever had knocked her front door open was still inside?

Her stomach rolled at the idea of a stranger, being inside of her home and going through her things. She loved living out in the middle of nowhere and she loved her home because it was her sanctuary. She had always felt perfectly safe. But now, she felt like someone had just snuck in a viewing of her being completely naked.

She looked to the clock on her phone. Four more minutes.

With a shaking thumb, she went through her contacts list and hit the familiar number.

"The Pine Cone," Merle answered on the other end.

"Merle, it's Beth," she said and she could hear her voice shaking and tears were building in her eyes. She was about to lose it. "I know he's working, but can I speak with Daryl?"

Merle seemed to instantly pick up on her distress. "Beth, what's wrong?"

She tried to focus on her breathing even as her entire body began to shake. "Please, Merle. I really need Daryl."

Daryl would make her feel safe again. She knew without a doubt.

…

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 **There were several scenes in this chapter (Daryl being visited by his parole officer while Beth was over and Beth's house being broken into) that actually gave me the idea to write this story so I was excited to write this chapter.**

 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review! Excited for the next!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you so much to those who read and reviewed the last chapter. I absolutely love writing this story just because it's a bit (lot) different from any of my other stories and I was so happy that there were still those who even remembered this story.**

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…

 **Sixteen.**

Daryl could really use a cigarette right about now, but he didn't want to light one up with his arms around Beth. She was still shaking a little and he kept holding her, his grip on her tight and strong so she knew that he was here and he wasn't going anywhere.

When he had taken the phone from Merle, telling him that it was Beth and through her broken breaths and tears, he had been able to get that someone had broken into her house and the cops were coming, Daryl had to get out of there and get to her immediately. Merle told him to go – telling him that he would handle the bar that night – and he was fairly certain that he broke every speed limit on the way to get to Beth as quick as he could.

When Daryl pulled up the long dirt drive, he had seen that the cop car was already there and when he pulled his truck next to Beth's car, he saw that she was sitting in there – probably on order from the cops to stay put – but once Beth saw that it was him, she flew from her car and right into his arms. And she hadn't left there since – not that Daryl had let her even think about going.

Through the windows, he could see the lights turn on in each room as the cops searched her house and the person who had broken in was obviously gone because it was too quiet and if he was still there, the cops would have found him by now and there would have been some sort of scuffle; at least there would be if Daryl had been the one to find the asshole.

"I live in the middle of nowhere," Beth finally spoke. "Who even knows my house is here?"

Daryl shook his head, having no idea what an answer to that would be that she would actually want to hear. And what he really wanted to say, no way was he going to; especially since there was a possibility that he could be wrong. Just because today was the day that she had gone to talk to the woman who was in a case against that politician and tonight, Beth's house gotten broken into, those were just two coincidences. They had to be.

And if they weren't, Daryl didn't have any proof and he didn't want to mention it to Beth. But what was really starting to drive him crazy just from standing there was that if it _wasn't_ a coincidence, there wasn't a damn thing he would be able to do about it. If someone was out there, wanting to scare Beth or hurt her, he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. He couldn't keep his girlfriend safe because if he did, he'd be breaking his parole and would have to return to prison to serve out the rest of his original sentence. He couldn't own a weapon; he couldn't use his fists. He wasn't able to do a damn thing.

"You want me to take you to your parents' place tonight?" Daryl asked, finally thinking of something that he could say.

Her dad owned a farm. He didn't doubt that Hershel Greene owned a shotgun. Or a few.

"Can I stay with you?" She asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

As if she had to ask.

They both turned their heads when the cop walked from Beth's house. It was Sheriff Grimes, having been the closest when the call came in. He saw the couple and he approached them and Beth stood up straight, having been leaning against Daryl, and he kept his arm around her shoulders.

"I take it you have insurance?" The Sheriff asked.

Beth nodded and swallowed. "Is it really bad?"

"Only you will know if something was taken, but there has definitely been damage-"

Beth broke away from Daryl at that and hurried to the house.

"Don't touch anything, Beth!" He called after her and then looked back to Daryl. "She got a place to stay?" He asked.

Daryl gave a nod. "With me."

"Alright. She can pack a bag, but make sure she doesn't touch too much. I'm calling this in so the B&E guys can get out here and dust for prints and take their reports."

Daryl gave another nod and with that, he followed after Beth into the house. He expected her to be looking through her bedroom or at the desk in her living room where she kept all of her bills and papers, but instead, she was standing right inside the door, staring at the spot on the wall next to the closet where 'Christina's World' by Andrew Wyeth usually hung. She then slowly knelt down on the floor and looked down at the shattered glass from the frame and the print wrinkled as if someone had ground their foot into it.

"Come on, Beth," Daryl said quietly, crouching down next to her. "I don't wan' you to get glass in your knees and we gotta pack you a bag. The Sheriff doesn't wan' you touchin' too much." His fingers gently cupped her elbow. "Come on, Beth," he whispered this time.

Her fingers began reaching out to pick up the print, but she then abruptly stopped and turned her head to look at Daryl. His entire chest twisted at the sight of the tears silently trailing down her cheeks.

"Come on," he whispered, almost pleading, and he began standing up, his fingers still curled around her elbow, and Beth rose to her feet with him.

He gently guided her into her bedroom, looking at things broken and smashed around them. Whoever had broken in, it looked as if they had taken a baseball bat to everything.

Beth went to her closet to get the gym bag she always used.

"Pack for a few nights," Daryl heard himself say and Beth nodded her head, remaining silent and not saying a word as she went to her dresser to get underwear and bras.

She then went back to her closet and looked at her dresses hanging there, but hesitated before taking any down. Daryl didn't ask her what she was doing. He felt like he didn't want to be the one to break the heavy silence that hung in the house. He was never good with words and he didn't want to say the wrong one right now. He wanted Beth to be the one to speak first so he knew what to say after. This whole thing between them, Daryl found himself always just following Beth's lead and this time was no different.

Beth took down one dress – red with long sleeves – but that was the only one she took. She then returned to her dresser where she began pulling out pairs of jeans and sweaters. Daryl nearly sighed with relief, but he caught himself before he could. If she was packing those sorts of clothes, that meant she wasn't going to work. Good. He had been hoping, but it hadn't been his place to say anything about it.

Beth finally lifted her eyes to look at him. "I'm going to change," she said. "Will you stay in here with me?" She then added quickly, as if worried that he would walk out.

Daryl didn't say anything to that. He just went to the bedroom door and closed it. Beth didn't start taking off her dress immediately. Instead, she turned and sat down on the foot of her bed, looking around at the smashed picture frames, her other things tossed carelessly down from their original places, and Daryl sat down next to her.

He didn't know what to say. He wanted to promise her that he would keep her safe, but he couldn't actually do that, could he? His way of keeping her safe would mean going back to prison for the next two years and that wouldn't be helping anyone.

"I've never felt anything like this before," she whispered. "I feel completely violated."

Daryl slipped an arm around her lower back and she leaned into his side. "You're gonna be stayin' with me for as long as you want. Until we get this place back to new again and even when we do, you can keep stayin' with me if you want."

Beth looked at him for a moment and then slowly looked around the room. "I don't know if I'm ever going to want to live here again," she said and he saw tears start to brim in her eyes. Daryl didn't say anything to that; just tightened his arm around her.

He loved Beth's home. It was small and cozy and everything a house should be. And if he loved it here, that didn't even begin to cover Beth's own love for it. She had bought this house and had turned it exactly into what she envisioned a home to be. And now, someone had broken into it and destroyed it and taken that sense of safety and comfort with them.

Daryl leaned in and found himself pressing his lips to her temple and he felt that familiar ball of self-loathing burning in the pit of his stomach. There wasn't a damn thing he could do for her right now and he hated himself for it. Already, in just this short amount of time, Beth had become one of the most important people in his life and he couldn't do a damn thing to help her right now or make her feel safe again.

He was about as useful right now as a wart on a frog's ass.

"This is my fault," she whispered.

"How do you figure that?" Daryl asked, unable to keep himself from frowning.

"Going to talk to Lilly Chambler today… someone saw me. The day I talk to her just so happens to be the same day my house gets broken into?" She voiced his own thoughts.

"You were doin' what you thought was right, Beth," Daryl pointed out to her. "You regret goin' to go talk to that woman today?" He asked.

Beth didn't hesitate in shaking her head. "It was the right thing to do."

Daryl gave a nod and kissed her head again, this time lower, on her cheekbone. "Come on. Get yourself changed and I wanna get you out of here."

Beth nodded and then turning slightly towards him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulder and pressed her face into the side of his throat, and he held onto her. "Thank you for coming when I called," she whispered.

"I'll always come s' long as you keep callin'," he murmured quietly into her shoulder.

Beth slowly pulled her head back at that and looked at him for a long moment before she moved her head in and pressed her lips to his softly. Daryl didn't know if he should kiss her. She was emotional and overwhelmed and he didn't want to take advantage of her. They may have already slept together – more than once – but still, he didn't want to step out of bounds right now. He didn't want to be _that_ guy – a guy who saw a girl crying and looking for comfort and being more than willing to give it to her whether she wants it from him in particular or not. He had known guys like that his whole life and damned if he was about to turn into one of them; especially with Beth, who was, hands down, the best person –male or female – he knew.

Daryl pressed his lips back to hers, but just barely, before he pulled his head back. "I wanna get you out of here," he said again and this time, Beth nodded and got to her feet.

Daryl remained sitting on the bed and he didn't mean to watch her, but he couldn't seem to move his eyes away as she began stripping. She stepped from her heels and then, reaching behind her, she found the zipper of her dress, but he could tell that her fingers were trembling and she kept losing her grip on it.

"Here, babe," he said in a low, gruff voice, and he stood up, coming behind her. He had no idea where the nickname had come from, but Beth didn't voice any protest to it and Daryl kind of liked how easy he had been able to say it and how it had sounded.

He carefully dragged the delicate zipper downwards, exposing the pale expanse of her back.

"Thank you," she said softly and he stepped back, watching as she pulled the dress from her shoulders, down her arms and it dropped down, the fabric pooling around her feet, giving him the perfect view of her yellow underwear and pale pink bra.

Daryl knew it probably sounded strange, but that was one thing he liked about Beth. He had noticed it before tonight. Her underwear and bra never seemed to match. One was always one color and the other was always another color. And not only did they mismatch, but they were cotton. Not some frilly, lacy scrap of a thing. But comfortable cotton and he would never tell her because he had no idea how he would form the right words where it would make sense to anyone, but he liked this about Beth because it made her feel real to him.

Ever since he saw her for the first time in The Pine Cone months ago and he had to ask for her id because he couldn't believe that she was legal, he had always viewed her as someone completely unreachable. Pretty, pure girls like her never wanted anyone like a Dixon anywhere near them; not even with a ten-foot pole.

But seeing her in simple underwear and a simple bra, it made her feel human to him.

Still in just her bra and underwear, Beth picked her dress up and went to go hang it back into her closet and set her high heels on her shoe rack on the closet floor. She then pulled on a pair of blue jeans – one of those pairs that were like a second skin - and an over-sized plain purple sweatshirt. Grabbing a pair of socks, she sat down once more and tugged them on over her jeans and then yanked on her boots.

"I'm not going to work tomorrow," she then stated as she stood up again and picked up her gym bag. Daryl took it from her and slung it over his own shoulder.

"Good," he replied as there was a knock on the closed bedroom door.

Beth went to answer it, unlocking it and pulling it open, revealing Sheriff Grimes.

"All set?" He asked. "The detectives are here."

"Do you need me to stay?" She asked.

"You notice anything off hand that's missing?" The Sheriff asked.

Beth shook her head. "It just looks like someone came in and wanted to ruin everything I have. My TV, computer… it's all still here."

"Do you know anyone off the top of your head that would be out to hurt you?"

Beth hesitated and Daryl could see that she was conflicted; not sure if she should confess what she had been doing that day even though she and Daryl shared the same thought and thought that it was all directly related.

"Can we all go back to Daryl's and talk?" Beth suggested. "I want to call my parents and tell them what happened and then I want to call my boss."

"Your boss?" Grimes lifted an eyebrow at that. "You think he had something to do with this?" The man was instantly intrigued.

"No, but he is involved," Beth answered and then looked at Daryl. "Is that okay?"

"'course it is," Daryl gave a nod and wondered where the hell everyone was going to sit.

…

The next time Carol mentioned taking him furniture shopping, Daryl was not going to think of any excuse to give her to keep from going. He needed furniture – especially with Beth now staying with him for a while. But with so many people in his place, he felt weird and awkward that he had nothing except a futon to sit on.

Beth had called her parents and told them about the break-in and both Hershel and Annette had rushed over and Maggie had been in the bar below and Beth figured she should tell her, too, so Maggie had come upstairs to Daryl's apartment. In addition to the four of them, there was the Sheriff and Beth had called her boss and Aiden had come, Andrea coming, too. And then Daryl. Too many people and with the exception of Beth sitting on the futon with Annette on side of her and Maggie on the other, no one else was sitting because there was nowhere for them to sit.

Daryl leaned against the doorway that led into the bedroom. He didn't speak; having nothing to intelligently add to the conversation, but he didn't leave because every few moments, Beth would look at him and she would look relieved that he was still there.

He wished he could tell her that he wasn't going anywhere, but there were too many people around and he wasn't close enough to her for him to say something that personal between them, so he remained standing there and hoped she could read it on his face.

"What the hell were you thinking, Beth?" Aiden asked with a frown once Beth had finished telling the Sheriff – and everyone – what she had done earlier that day. "You had no business-"

"I know," Beth gently interrupted. "I just… ever since we got this case, it hasn't sat right with me," she admitted, staring at her boss.

"That is not your call and you know it," Aiden's frown grew fiercer. "Your job is not judge, jury and executioner."

The harder the man's voice became, the tenser Daryl felt himself become, but then he remembered his anger management. Focus on breathing. In and out. Inhale. Exhale. Slow and steady. He couldn't go around punching people in the face or always being pissed off. That got him nothing in life except a prison sentence.

Still, just because he was the boss didn't mean that he had to talk to Beth like a dick.

"I know and I'm sorry," Beth said. "I just… do you believe the Statesman, Aiden?"

"It doesn't matter whether I believe him or not. The man is paying me to defend him so that's what I'm going to do." Aiden let out a deep sigh and raked his fingers through his hair. He then looked to Andrea and Andrea looked to Sheriff Grimes.

"You won't be speaking to Statesman Blake about the break-in, will you?" She asked him. She glanced to Beth before back to the man. "We wouldn't want Beth's actions today to be made public knowledge to certain people."

Daryl frowned at that – nearly scowling – but he remained silent.

Maggie, however, didn't. "So my sister's house gets broken into, her things are destroyed, but we don't want to upset the man who might be responsible? Are you kidding me? No wonder people hate lawyers so much."

"Maggie," Hershel said in a quiet – yet stern – voice and that was all he said, but it was enough for Maggie to sigh and fall quiet again, but her scowl seemed to be matching Daryl's.

"Unfortunately, there is no evidence – at the moment – that Statesman Blake or anyone associated with him had anything to do with the break-in," Sheriff Grimes informed everyone in the room. "I'm going to wait to see what the detectives come up with and then we're going to go from there. In the meantime, we just have to wait."

There wasn't really anything anyone could say to that and they were all quiet.

"When I need to get a hold of you, you'll be staying here?" The Sheriff asked Beth.

Beth nodded without pause and Daryl wasn't sure why, but he didn't want to look at her parents or sister right then. They obviously all knew that he and Beth were together, but now, everyone in the room – her family and her bosses and the Sheriff – all knew that they were sleeping together, too.

Daryl felt the back of his neck turn red as if he was embarrassed even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He was damn lucky to have a girl like Beth in his life and he knew that and he knew that everyone in the room was probably thinking the same thing.

The meeting broke up soon after. Hershel and Annette walked the Sheriff to the door, the three talking with one another in low voices, and Daryl saw that Andrea, Aiden and Beth were all speaking with one another. Actually, it seemed as if Andrea and Aiden were the only ones talking and Beth was just listening, occasionally nodding.

Maggie came up to Daryl. "Would you go furniture shopping, for God's sakes?"

And for the first time in hours, Daryl found himself smirking a little at that.

"Take Beth with you. She'll get this place feeling like a home in no time."

"'s not a bad idea," Daryl agreed.

Aiden and Andrea left a few minutes after that and Annette and Maggie hugged Beth tightly, making her promise that she would call them if she needed absolutely anything. Hershel came up to Daryl and shook his hand. Daryl shook the hand offered to him and couldn't help, but feel a little confused. This man didn't seem to have a problem with his daughter staying with her boyfriend – her ex-con boyfriend – instead of going home with her parents. Daryl couldn't believe that any father would be as understanding as Hershel was being right now. Hell, _no one_ in the world was obviously as understanding as this man.

"Call us if you need anything," Hershel repeated his wife's words and Daryl nodded.

Once everyone was gone and it was just the two of them, Beth looked at him before walking down the hallway, heading into his bedroom. Daryl made sure the door was locked before following after her. She had taken off her boots was now laying on her stomach, hugging the pillow to her chest on what had become _her_ side of the bed.

He really needed to go buy a bed instead of just having a mattress on the floor.

He toed off his own shoes and crawled onto the bed, putting himself behind her. He paused for only a moment before he slid his hand across her hip and laid a bit more down so his arm was hugging her middle and Beth shifted so his hand could rest between the mattress and her rib-cage.

"I'm off the case and I'm suspended from work for the next couple of days," she said quietly.

Daryl took a moment to process that, trying to think of something to say. "How you feel 'bout that?" He figured it was the safest thing to ask.

Beth shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not upset about the case and as for work…" she exhaled. "I don't know. I absolutely love my job, but lately, I've been wondering if I love _where_ I'm doing that job. Andrea and Aiden are wonderful to work for, but… maybe it's time I start looking to work somewhere else."

"Like with the DA?" Daryl heard himself ask.

Beth shook her head at that. "I could never get a job there," she said.

"Not with that attitude," he snorted and he heard Beth giggle softly at that. And after everything that had happened to her that evening, to hear her giggle – to be the one who could _get_ her to giggle – and as she snuggled in closer against him, Daryl held her tighter.

"Thank you for letting me stay with you," she whispered after a minute had passed.

"I like havin' you here," he decided to tell her because it was the truth and why shouldn't he tell her something like that. Beth would probably like knowing something like that. And when he saw the smile slowly spread across her lips, he knew that she had.

They laid there silently for a while – he had no idea how long – and he could hear the thump of noise coming up through the floorboards from the bar below. He realized that he had never eaten dinner. Usually, Carol would bring something out to him from the kitchen to behind the bar so he would be able to eat when – if – there was a lull in customers. But tonight, Beth had called him and he had rushed out of The Pine Cone before eating.

He wondered if she had eaten dinner. He doubted it. He wondered if, despite everything that had happened, she was hungry. He went over the inventory that he knew he had in his refrigerator and cabinets, trying to think of something he could make for her. Beth made it no secret that she absolutely loved it when he cooked for her.

"'m gonna make some dinner," he finally said. "You hungry?"

Beth shook her head and he wasn't surprised, but then she turned her head on the pillow so she could look up at him. "What are you going to make?"

Daryl's lips twitched a little at that. "Got a few of those chicken Kievs in the freezer. Gonna cook those up and I got a box of wild rice, too."

Beth gave a little smile. "That sounds really good," she then admitted.

"And then I was thinkin' since neither of us have work tomorrow, maybe you can come furniture shoppin' with me and help me pick some stuff out. Never gone furniture shoppin' 'fore and figured I need at least another chair or somethin'," he said and this time, her smile grew a bit wider and seeing it on her face, Daryl smiled, too.

He could make her giggle and he could make her smile and God damn, but this woman made him feel like he was far more important than he actually was.

Beth nodded. "That sounds really good, too."

She turned a little bit more onto her back and lifting her hand, she sifted her fingers through the hairs on the back of his head and then gently began guiding him down until his lips met hers. She turned over completely so she was on her back and Daryl was over her and his hand across her middle moved and inched up beneath her sweatshirt just enough to feel the cool, bare skin of her stomach. She kissed him a little harder and this time, unlike in her bedroom earlier, Daryl didn't pull back from it.

Seemed like dinner was going to hold off for a bit longer.

…

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you from the bottom of my heart to those who read and review.**

* * *

…

 **Seventeen.**

With her limited – very limited – sexual experience, Beth had never been on top before and she was fairly certain that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but Daryl was grunting and groaning softly beneath her and he didn't seem to be doing so out of pain so Beth just figured she would keep doing what she was doing. And it certainly felt good for her so she couldn't possibly be doing it _that_ wrong.

She had her hands firm on his chest to balance herself as she slowly moved her hips up and down, gasping each time she slid downwards and felt him fill her again, and Daryl's hands were on her back, running up and down, grasping the dips of her hips or gripping her skin.

Again, not that she had any experience or had many to compare it to, Daryl felt so thick to her. She didn't know if he was necessarily long – long enough, it felt like, that was for sure – but feeling him inside of her, it was as if she was being stretched to the absolute brink and she didn't understand how her body had enough room for him. But it did because with each stroke, he filled her completely again and again and each time, she gasped and moaned and she was already trembling, but she hoped they could both keep going because this was feeling amazing and after everything that had happened to her today, she really needed this sex with her boyfriend to last as long as possible.

"So good, Beth," Daryl grunted beneath her and Beth smiled because that was definitely a compliment and obviously, she knew what she was doing.

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was probably too hard, but Daryl didn't seem to mind and he pressed his lips to hers with a matching pressure. She felt his fingers in her hair, holding it back from her face. She then broke her mouth away and moaned loudly when Daryl's hands slipped down to her hips and gripping her, he lifted his own hips and thrust into her. It was Daryl's turn to smile.

Beth let out a gasp when Daryl's hand went to the back of her neck, cupping it, and he then gently yet swiftly flipped them over. Her gasp turned into a laugh and Daryl smiled, too, before kissing her and thrusting into her again.

Daryl continued a steady speed between her spread thighs that made her gasp and cling to him with each thrust.

"I really needed this," she panted and even though Daryl's face was pressed to the side of her neck, she could still feel him smiling.

Again, that want to tell him that she loved him was right on her tongue, but she stopped herself before she could. She couldn't tell him now. Not during sex. She listened to Maggie – even when Maggie thought Beth never heard a word she said – and though most of the time, Maggie always revealed _far_ too many details in regards to her dating life, that didn't mean that Beth didn't absorb what was being said.

Apparently, it was universally known to never say those words during this activity. Apparently, if they were said during this time, they were never to be believed. Beth wasn't entirely sure why that seemed to be the truth, but Maggie had said it more than once and though when it came to the opposite sex, Beth took things Maggie said with a grain of salt, this time, Beth was thinking that perhaps she was right.

Beth couldn't tell Daryl that she loved him. Not now. It just wasn't the right time. They were still getting to know one another and after everything that had happened to her that day – her house being broken into and being suspended from work and her mind churning that maybe she should look for another job – it was just too much and maybe she was high on emotions right now. Maybe that would be exactly what Daryl would think if she said those three words to him right now.

She almost sighed with annoyance even as Daryl continued moving and making her feel so good. She loved this man. Didn't she? Yes! Of course she did and she knew better than to doubt that. She had never been in love before so all of these feelings, she had never felt them before so in her mind, that could only mean one thing to her.

She had gone to law school and was taught to use reason and logic to look at the most probable answer and not a single part of her doubted that these feelings she had for Daryl – this constant knotting and churning in her stomach just when she did something as simple as thought about him – were anything _but_ being in love. And then, of course, she had to think how Daryl felt about her.

Did he love her? What if he loved her and he was just waiting for her to say it first? She knew absolutely nothing about his childhood, but the scars that crisscrossed his back and his father… well, it was enough for her to infer – a terrible habit, she knew, but one that she also thought could come in handy sometimes – and she knew that Daryl wouldn't be the sort to be comfortable with talking about love. Not first anyway. Maybe he was waiting for her to say it so he could say it, too.

She wished she was brave.

Beth never expected to get any sleep that night. With everything that had happened, she had just expected to lie there and blink up at the ceiling and listen to Daryl breathing deeply beside her as he slept the night away with no problem. But instead, she felt Daryl's warm breath on the back of her shoulder and his heavy arm across her hip and lying on his single mattress on the floor – and feeling _completely_ safe – Beth's eyes grew heavy and she wound up falling asleep after all.

When she awoke again, the room was orange with morning light on the other side of the drawn window blinds and Daryl was no longer in bed with her and there was one panicked moment where she thought that she was running late for work and she flew into a sitting position with a gasp.

Daryl didn't have any nightstands and instead, he had a digital clock and a lamp, as well as a couple of books just set on the floor next to the mattress. Beth looked to the clock now and saw that it was almost eight o'clock. She blinked at the numbers as if she had never seen them before. Eight o'clock on a weekday – a work day – and she wasn't already in the office, at her desk with a cup of coffee and highlighter in hand?

Daryl wasn't beside her anymore and moving her hand to the space next to her, she still felt the faintest amount of heat so he hadn't been gone that long. She could smell eggs in the air and she smiled faintly to herself. She was still naked beneath the bed sheet from the night before and slowly slipping from off the mattress, she went to her drawer in the dresser and pulled on a fresh pair of underwear and then going to the closet, she took down one of Daryl's soft flannel shirts and pulled that one, buttoning it up as she left the bedroom.

She stopped in the bathroom first, emptying her bladder and then washing her hands and face. She picked up her brush and working it through her hair before tossing it up into a ponytail. She was still waiting for the breakdown to come from yesterday. She had had one in her house – broken and destroyed around her – but ever since getting to Daryl's apartment, it was strange, but she actually felt calm. Completely calm. Not freaking out or losing her mind or panicking or worrying. She was just… calm. And it was strange to her because it almost felt foreign and she wondered how tightly she had been wound up since the Statesman came to the law firm and she had been assigned to the case.

She hadn't even realized.

Stepping out from the hallway into the living room, Beth saw Daryl standing at the stove in the kitchen, frying eggs in a pan, and she smiled the instant her eyes fell on him. Her stomach clenched and knotted – as always – and she wondered how long this feeling lasted. Would she always look at him and feel exactly like this?

"Hey," Daryl saw her and gave her a little smile. He wore sweatpants and a plain white undershirt and she swore she could see – even from where she was standing – his eyes darken as he took in what she was wearing. He cleared his throat after a moment and Beth smiled, blushing faintly. "'m makin' eggs. You hungry?" He asked.

"Definitely," she gave him a nod and then joined him in the kitchen to gather plates and silverware and to take the carton of orange juice from the refrigerator.

That was another reason why she loved Daryl. He made her feel like she was a woman and not only that, but that she was a beautiful woman.

"Are we still going furniture shopping today?" She asked him as he slid two eggs onto one of the plates and handed it to her. Again, she smiled as she took it.

He remembered how she liked her fried eggs.

Over hard. Maggie and Shawn had always thought she was so weird for always eating her eggs like that. They loved the yolk sopping over everything on their plates and mopping it up with bits of toast. But Beth – though she loved eggs and yolk – didn't like the idea of the yolk getting all over her bacon and potatoes and loved everything keeping to itself. She knew it was strange, yes, but when she had told Daryl the first morning he offered to make her eggs, he had just smiled a little and hadn't said anything. If he thought she was crazy, he kept it to himself.

"Yeah," he answered. "If you still wanna."

Beth gave him a nod and smile. "Do you know what you're going to be looking at? How much furniture did you want?"

She waited for him to finish his eggs and then, with the bread popped up from the toaster, he dropped one slice onto her plate and then took one for himself and with glasses of juice, they then went to eat their breakfast on the futon.

Beth waited for a feeling of panic to sweep over her. Here she was, at eight o'clock on a weekday, eating breakfast with her boyfriend and not going into work. Shouldn't she feel panic? Shouldn't she feel upset for being suspended? No, she had no right to be upset. No matter how she felt about the case or the firm's client, she had had no reason going to speak with Lilly Chambler yesterday. Goodness, had that just been yesterday? She could have gotten the firm in serious trouble for doing it and she deserved to be suspended.

But now that she had been and she sat there, not going into the office, that same wave of calmness swept warmly across her.

Maybe it _was_ time she start looking for another job.

"'m thinkin' a chair for here and maybe a real couch. Bed frame. Maybe a kitchen table," Daryl said, looking around the room that looked so massive with so little in it. His eyes then settled on her. "I really like how your house is…" his words trailed off then and she saw the tips of his ears burn red as if he was embarrassed for some reason and Beth gave him a soft smile.

"We'll get this place together in no time. I promise," she said and he gave a nod.

He took a chug of orange juice and paused to swallow. "How you feelin'? 'bout everythin' that happened yesterday?"

Beth already knew the answer, but she paused anyway and chewed on a corner of her toast. "I feel fine," she answered with a smile and Daryl looked at her, as if studying her to make sure that that was actually the truth, and Beth let him look.

Fine. Such a simple word and yet, right now, in this moment, it was the perfect word. It was exactly how she felt. She had no idea what she was doing or what was going to happen and she still had her house to clean up and deal with work and she was still thinking of how she could help Lilly. But sitting with Daryl on his futon, eating her eggs that he had fried to perfection for her, everything was honestly fine.

…

They went to the furniture store that she had went to when she bought her house and began filling it with the things she loved. They seemed to be one of the few customers in there that morning and a salesman, working on commission, instantly swooped in to catch them.

"Hi. Welcome to Von Duren Furniture. What can I help you two with today? We're having an excellent sale on dining room sets this week. You two look like you're here for a dining room set. 0% and free shipping and at-home delivery thrown in."

Daryl stared at the man like a deer caught in headlights and Beth gave a gentle smile.

"We're just going to look around, but we'll come find you when we're ready," Beth told the salesman politely as she gently steered Daryl away.

He expelled a deep breath once they walked away, towards the other end of the store and where the living room sets were displayed. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "That was scarier than bein' out in the prison yard."

"Daryl Dixon, did you just tell a joke?" Beth asked, laughter bubbling in her throat.

Daryl just gave her the slightest twitch of his lips and then came to a stop in front of a living room display. Beth looked as well. A dark gray couch with a lighter gray chair, two black-wood end tables and a matching coffee table.

"This one's good," Beth smiled encouragingly. "You should try it out."

Daryl's brow furrowed and frowned at her. "Try it out?"

Beth did laugh this time and taking a gentle hold of his arm, she pulled him towards the couch. "You can't buy a couch without sitting on it first." She sat down first on one of the cushions and smiled as he slowly sat down next to her. "Well?" She asked after a moment. "What do you think?"

Daryl didn't answer right away. He seemed to be giving the answer some serious thought. His brow remained furrowed as if he wasn't too sure what he thought.

"Okay," Beth said. "We'll make it easy."

She leaned back, sinking against the cushions behind her, and she then put her feet up on the coffee table in front of them. Daryl looked at her with his eyebrows raised, but she just smiled and slowly, Daryl followed her lead. He didn't put his feet up on the coffee table, but he did sink back next to her.

"Saturday morning. You've worked an insane night at the bar – drunk college kids singing karaoke songs, badly – and you get home and you just want to relax," she said. "You sit down on your couch, turn on the television and just vegetate for the next few hours. Could you see yourself being comfortable, vegetating on this couch?"

Daryl was quiet again, but she smiled when she watched him as he shifted and then sank a little bit lower. "Yeah," he finally answered. "This one could work. I didn't think I was supposed to buy the first couch I saw."

"Where'd you hear that?" She wondered.

"Prison yard," he said again and she let out a laugh that echoed in the store. "You like it?" He looked to her.

"I do," she answered with a smile. "Try the chair, too."

Without argument, Daryl got up from the couch and dropped himself down into the armchair and like he did in the couch, he slouched down a bit. "'s nice, too. Comfy. Good vegetatin' chair."

Beth smiled and then looked at the price tag on the coffee table for everything. "We should do this in sections so you don't get overwhelmed. We'll get just a few pieces at a time. And a bed frame, today, too. And we'll come back some other day for a kitchen table," she suggested.

Daryl leaned forward then and took a look at the price himself. It wasn't the most expensive furniture store in town, but it didn't sell the cheapest either and she didn't know how much money he had to work with. She knew, as a man who had served time, Daryl would have bills to pay back to the state of Georgia for his "room and board" over the past couple of years, but did Merle make him pay rent? Utilities? How much did he make as a bartender?

He was clearly working some math out in his head and Beth didn't say anything that would disrupt and break his concentration.

"Nah. This should be alrigh'," he then spoke. "I don't need the coffee table though since I already got one." He stood up and Beth followed his lead. "Or do you think I should get it so everything matches?"

Beth thought it over for a moment. "Well, you could get this coffee table and then put the one you have now in the bedroom so you have a bedside table," she suggested.

Daryl didn't even seem to think that over before he was nodding. "Sounds good to me. Wanna go take a look at bed frames?" He asked.

Beth nodded and smiled and Daryl reached for her hand, encasing it within his, and they walked to the back of the store, towards the bedroom sets.

She expected perhaps to feel a little embarrassed, looking at beds with this man, but then she wondered _why_ she would feel at all embarrassed. This man was her boyfriend and they had slept together several times now, and on top of all of that, she was in love with him. If she couldn't look at beds with Daryl, who on earth could she look at them with?

"Your mattress is good," Beth took the lead again. "So we really just need a box spring and then a frame." Daryl just nodded and didn't say anything as his eyes roamed over the different frames. "Headboard or no headboard?" She asked.

"No headboard," he shook his head, something visibly clouding in his eyes.

"So then no footboard either," Beth guessed. "Let's go look at these back here."

As they looked over the selections of the simplest frames, Daryl had gotten so quiet, Beth actually caught herself turning her head to look and see if he was still there. He was. His hands were jammed in the pockets of his jeans and he was staring at the frames with eyes so hard, Beth wondered if he even saw any of them at all.

Beth didn't know what to do. It was as if he was there, and yet, he wasn't there at all and she wasn't entirely sure what to do.

"My ma, she had a footboard," Daryl said, so suddenly, Beth nearly jumped a little with surprise. Her eyes instantly flew to him. "One day, my ol' man got so pissed 'bout somethin', he was throwin' her around like damn rag doll like he always did and he threw her into the footboard. Damn near broke her back."

Beth had seen his scars already and had seen how long Will Dixon's record had been. She had also seen the pictures of Will Dixon after Daryl nearly beat him to death. Beth wished she had been a lawyer and had been able to defend Daryl because if she had, he never would have seen the inside of a prison. She could just imagine the things that he had been through with that man as a father and actually, she _didn't_ want to imagine. Just listening to his story now, tears flooded her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, her hand reaching out to rest on his forearm.

Daryl shrugged and he had made his entire face go blank; free completely of any emotion whatsoever. "'s not your fault," he said.

Beth shook her head slightly. "It wasn't your fault either, Daryl," she said to him.

Daryl stared at her after that and his face and eyes remained blank – a complete mystery – to her and she had no idea what he was thinking. She wondered if maybe she had said the wrong thing. She didn't know nearly enough of anything about him to be saying such things. He had been the one to mention anything about his childhood first, but that didn't mean that he wanted her to make comments about it.

And he was being so quiet. She definitely had said the wrong thing. Was he furious?

"Daryl-" she began to say because she had to say something.

But that was the only word Beth was able to get out because then Daryl's lips were on hers and he was kissing her as if they weren't standing in the middle of a furniture store – in the _bed_ department – and all Beth could do was circle her arms around his neck and hold on.

…

"I don't see that one either," Annette said from the other end of the phone.

"Alright," Beth couldn't help, but feel a little disappointed as she crossed the title off the list, joining the others that she had made and had already crossed off as well.

When she moved out, she hadn't left a single true crime book at her parents? She had so many, she couldn't believe that there wouldn't be at least _one_ in that big house. But it seemed that way because Annette had been looking all over and hadn't been able to come across a single one that Beth had asked about.

She didn't want not say that she was bored. It was only her first day of suspension from work and she and Daryl had spent the morning, furniture shopping and then purchasing what he wanted – setting a delivery date for that upcoming weekend – and then, they had come back here for the afternoon. Carol had called up, asking if Daryl had a moment to come help her and Merle unload some inventory that had been delivered, and Beth was alone to her own devices upstairs.

But she was. She was so flipping bored. She hadn't taken any of her books or her personal laptop when she and Daryl had left her home the night before.

"Evidence," Sheriff Grimes had explained.

Everything in her home was evidence until the detectives gave the clear and she would be able to go home. And while she definitely did want her things, she didn't know if she wanted to go home again. Living in the middle of nowhere in her little house had been a version of heaven for her, but now, knowing that someone had busted through the door and had walked through the rooms and been through her things, she didn't know if she would feel safe there anymore.

Daryl had told her that she could stay for as long as she wanted, but she couldn't possibly impose on him like that. Maybe she would move back home with her parents for a while. She didn't doubt that Hershel and Annette would love that.

"Thank you for looking," Beth then said to her mom. "I think I'll just go to the library tomorrow and look at what they have."

"Looking for anything in particular?" Annette wondered.

"Sort of…" Beth began answering, but then stopped herself before she could say more. She shook her head even though Annette couldn't see it. "I've had an idea for a while, but I'm sure nothing will come of it."

"What kind of idea?" Annette continued to press.

"I don't want to say yet," Beth then said.

She wasn't sure how her mom would react to Beth's desire to try and write a book. Hershel and Annette Greene were wonderful parents in supporting their children with any interests they might have, but writing a book was no easy task and especially this book – it would take plenty of time and research – and Beth was sure her parents were probably going to start wondering – if not doing so already – what she was going to do in regards to her job.

Beth wished she had an answer for that one.

But thankfully, Annette didn't make one peep about her job.

After thanking her mom again for looking and promising that she would stop at the farm tomorrow for lunch, Beth ended the call and tossed her cell phone down next to her with a sigh. Maybe she could use Daryl's laptop for a little bit. She was sure he wouldn't mind. Still though, she didn't want to put serial killers in his search history. What if Shane did another home visit and decided to look at what Daryl was looking at on the internet? Beth didn't think that would look very good.

Hearing the apartment door open, Beth turned her head, thinking it would be Daryl, but instead, a girl of around twelve with freckles and brown hair cut to her earlobes can bounding in, smiling widely upon seeing Beth.

"Hi!" The girl greeted excitedly and plopped down next to her on the futon. "I'm Sophia, Daryl's niece."

Beth's smile was instant. "It's so nice to meet you. I'm Beth-"

"Yep," Sophia nodded, still beaming. "Uncle Daryl's girlfriend. I saw him downstairs and he told me to be nice to you."

"Would you normally not be nice?" Beth asked, laughing slightly.

"I'm very protective of my Uncle Daryl," Sophia then stated.

"That's a very good thing to be," Beth nodded. "He's lucky to have you."

"I know," Sophia quipped and Beth laughed again. "What about you?"

Beth looked to Sophia, wondering what the girl meant. Sophia smiled and reached into the front pocket of her book bag, pulling out a pack of strawberry gum. She offered Beth a piece and Beth smiled her thanks, taking it, and Sophia took one for herself. Sophia took a moment, chewing on her piece and then blowing a bubble.

"Do you love my Uncle Daryl?" Sophia asked, smiling, but looking at Beth closely.

Beth wondered if this was how people on the witness stand felt during cross-examination. She hesitated for a moment and then wondered what the harm would be in responding honestly. Daryl wasn't here and even if he was… well, if anyone needed to know that he was loved, it was Daryl.

"Yes," Beth answered.

"A lot?" Sophia pressed.

"A lot," Beth nodded with a faint smile and warm blush on her cheeks.

Sophia beamed, obviously quite pleased with that answer. "Good! Because he loves you, too. He told me."

Beth felt her mouth fall open. "He… he told you that he loves me?"

"Yep," Sophia's head bobbed eagerly. "Just now, downstairs, he said to be nice to you because he didn't want me chasing you away and then my dad was teasing him, saying that it was because he loved you and Uncle Daryl didn't say anything to that and we all know that when he doesn't say anything when my dad is ribbing him, it's because it's the truth."

Beth suddenly felt very glad that she was already sitting down because slowly, she felt the room begin to spin around her.

"Oh," she said, having no idea what else to say; having no idea if she should actually believe that Daryl loved her just because he didn't confirm or deny it.

On the one hand, just because he didn't say anything when being teased could mean absolutely nothing. And it probably did.

But on the other hand, who knew him better than his family? And if Beth was being told by someone in that family – even if she was only twelve – that Daryl loved her, should she try to doubt that? She didn't want to doubt that. She wanted to believe, more than anything, that Daryl loved her because if Daryl did love her, Beth couldn't help, but think that that was the best things to ever happen to her.

To be loved by someone, truly loved, she had always wanted that and if that someone who loved her was Daryl? Her job and entire career might have been in limbo right now, but if Daryl loved her, what more could she ask for than that?

…

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Tomorrow is my birthday so if you read, please take a moment to review! I consider all reviews to be like little presents anyway. Thank you for all those who love this story as much as I love writing it!**

* * *

…

 **Eighteen.**

Leave it to Beth to sing some cheesy song from the '70s and make it sound like the best damn song that had ever been written.

 _"_ _Well, I got a brand new pair of roller skates,_ _  
_ _You got a brand new key._ _  
_ _I think that we should get together and try them out, you see._ _  
_ _I've been looking around awhile, you got something for me._ _  
_ _Oh, I got a brand new pair of roller skates,_ _  
_ _You got a brand new key."_

Just as she had done the last time, Maggie had used her bullying skills as the older sister and had gotten Beth to go up on the little stage and take her turn at karaoke. Daryl didn't know why Beth didn't like singing in front of other people. She had the best voice he had ever heard; even better than those girl singers on the radio and definitely better than the drunk college kids that got up there and thought that screaming the words into the microphone was the same as singing.

He stood behind the bar, watching her with a little smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he served up drinks to the crowd that night. As she sang, she was smiling into the microphone and laughing a little at the silliness of the song – especially with Maggie drunkenly hooting and hollering loudly for her.

He saw that Korean guy who had come in with Maggie come to the bar with an empty beer mug and Daryl went to go see if he wanted another.

"Another?" Daryl asked as Glenn pushed the empty mug to him and Glenn nodded.

The guy looked nervous for some reason and Daryl put the dirty mug down in the bin beneath the bar before grabbing a clean one and filling it with the cold beer on tap. "Thanks," Glenn said as Daryl pushed it back towards him. "Maggie said to just put it on her tab for the time being, but, uh, how much is her tab so far tonight?"

Daryl moved and hit a few buttons on the screen. It had taken him a damn long time, getting used to this computerized POS system. "Addin' your beer, she's up to sixty, but she's been buyin' drinks for other people, too," Daryl told him.

Glenn shook his head and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I told her to stop doing that." He handed Daryl three twenties and Daryl opened the cash drawer with one hand while clearing off Maggie's tab with a swipe of his other hand.

"Shocked she didn' listen to you," Daryl joked a little and Glenn burst out into a grin as if it was one of the best things he had ever heard.

"Her sister stubborn like that?" Glenn asked.

At the mention of Beth, Daryl looked back towards the stage. The song was almost finished and as if she could feel him looking at her, her eyes swept over to look right at him and as their eyes met, her smile widened. And seeing her smile at him like that, like she was happy to be breathing even the same air as him, it made Daryl smile, too, because why the hell would that girl be smiling at him like that?

He still didn't get it, but he sure as hell learned his lesson in not questioning it.

"She's got her moments," Daryl gave a nod.

Beth finished the song and rowdy applause and cheers spread throughout the bar for her as she giggled and took a curtsy before hopping down the stage, immediately being engulfed in an enthusiastic, slightly smothering, hug from Maggie.

"We should go on a double date sometime," Glenn suggested then.

And just a couple of months ago, Daryl would have scoffed at just the simple idea. But now, he was with Beth and he was doing all sorts of things he had never done before – like sleeping beside a girl every night and cooking her eggs and going furniture shopping with her. If Merle's opinion meant anything, apparently, Daryl and Beth were damn close to being married.

"We're takin' my niece campin' next weekend," Daryl said. "You and Maggie could come with us if you like campin'."

"I've never really been camping before," Glenn admitted, but then grinned. "Sounds fun. I'll talk to Maggie about it."

"You ever hear of Slender Man?" Daryl asked as he filled a pitcher of beer for a waiting college student who had come up beside Glenn, holding a five dollar bill in his hand.

As Daryl took the money and handed the pitcher over, he noticed Glenn's smile had faded and the guy looked a little pale even in the lower lights of the bar. He was looking about the same that Sophia looked like whenever Slender Man was mentioned.

Daryl did his best to not smirk at the guy.

"Not a fan of Slender Man?" Daryl asked.

"If that's what we're going to be doing next weekend, I'll just stay at camp and man the fire when you're out looking for him," Glenn informed him and Daryl grinned at that. An actual grin. It actually took him back for a moment.

Glenn headed back to Maggie and Beth appeared a moment later, flushed and breathless from laughing.

"Hi," she beamed at him as if she hadn't just spoken to him five minutes earlier.

"Sounded real good tonight," Daryl told her and even though her cheeks were already pink, her blush from his words was obvious and she laughed a little, shaking her head as if embarrassed at the praise.

"I think I'm done for the night. I kind of just want to go upstairs and take a bath," she admitted and Daryl thought that over for a moment. And he must have been making a face when he did so because Beth let out a light laugh. "Not a bath person?" She guessed, acting surprised, though her tone showed she wasn't surprised in the least.

"I don't know," Daryl shrugged, getting a few Coronas for a gaggle of girls and setting them down, he then began carefully cutting up lime wedges. "Sittin' in a tub of water, in your own filth…"

"How dirty do you think I am?" Beth teased, laughing a little, and though he knew that she was teasing, Daryl felt his ears turn red nonetheless. "You just wait, Daryl Dixon. In two more hours, I'm getting you into a bath."

And even though he didn't see the appeal of baths, if a wet and naked Beth was in the bath with him, maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"No bubbles though," he grumbled and Beth burst out with laughter at that.

"Of course bubbles. A bath is not a bath without bubbles," she said.

"Why? Cause the bubbles hide the filth?" He asked and Beth laughed at that as she always did when he found himself actually telling a joke.

Even though he was working and there were people all around them, Daryl found himself leaning over the bar towards her and Beth smiled, standing on her toes and leaning into him, giving him a kiss.

"Have a good rest of your shift," she smiled at him and then with a wave, she turned and Daryl watched as she headed to the kitchen to say good-night to Merle.

Daryl found himself smiling a little as he went back to mixing and serving drinks and it didn't even bother him when the next girl got up on the stage and started belting her awful version of some Britney Spears. And Daryl hated that he was now able to tell what the hell a Britney Spears song.

Stupid Merle and his stupid karaoke machine.

Daryl wasn't sure how much time had passed since Beth had gone upstairs. It was busy that night and when it was busy, time seemed to fly by – which was no problem for Daryl. Ever since Beth started staying with him, he liked being upstairs in his apartment a hell of a lot more and now that he had actual furniture, he was going to go out on a limb and dare himself to call the place home.

Speaking of home, he wondered if Beth would be ready to go back to hers. _Not_ that he wanted her to leave. She'd been with him for almost a week and already, he couldn't imagine not having her there. Sheriff Grimes and the detectives had cleared her place two days earlier and she had returned – with her dad and Maggie when Daryl had been working a day shift in the bar – and had packed more bags of her clothes, books and her computer, bringing everything back to his apartment.

Daryl was glad for that, too. He loved her little house out there in the middle of nowhere, but at the same time, he didn't know if he wanted her out there, all by herself – not with someone who broke in and ruined so many of her things. He knew it probably wasn't his place to tell her something like that, but Beth seemed to be in agreement with him.

She had asked him – shyly – if she could stay with him for a little while longer, and Daryl knew he had probably given an answer that had appeared to be too eager, but he hadn't really cared and judging by Beth's smile at the time, she hadn't either.

"Well, hi there, Daryl," a voice broke through his thoughts and turning his head – sitting in Beth's usual seat – was that bodyguard.

Negan.

Daryl's face went completely blank at the sight of the man and reluctantly, he went to him. Any paying customer was a customer who had to be served, Merle said, and there was no given reason to throw this man out. Not yet anyway.

"Help you?" Daryl asked in a grunt.

"Shot and a beer," Negan said, pulling his wallet out and putting some bills on the bar as Daryl went to get him a shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer. "Thanks," he said and Daryl took the money, turning to put it in the drawer. He heard the glass slam down as Negan took his shot and then chased it with a swig of beer. "Where's that pretty little Beth this evening?" Negan then asked and Daryl felt himself go cold.

Slowly, he found himself turning towards the man and Negan just smiled at him.

"The bar is kind of missing something with her not in here," Negan continued and Daryl found himself standing there, looking at him and crossing his arms over his chest. Negan seemed amused with the stance because he just kept smiling and his eyes gave a little twinkle now as he took another swig of beer.

"She ain't here," Daryl then felt the need to point out to him; make sure he knew.

"Haven't seen her in the office either when I'm going there with my boss. The lawyer, Aiden, said that she had taken an unforeseen leave of absence and he wasn't sure when she would be back. I hope everything is okay with her."

Daryl doubted that, but he kept his mouth shut.

"But I bet you're taking care of her – if she needs you to. What girl wouldn't want some guy fresh out of prison acting as her bodyguard? I'm just sorry that I already have a job because I would not mind for one second guarding her sweet ass."

In that moment, Daryl found himself thinking of Hershel.

 _"Remember," the man had told those in the anger management meeting. "People who are provoking you, 99.9% of the time, they're doing it just to get a reaction out of you. They feed off of it and if you don't give it them, guess what they are? Failures."_

"How you know that 'bout me bein' in prison?" Daryl asked and Negan grinned as if he was truly happy that Daryl had finally said something, but Daryl wasn't fooled.

That was not a grin someone gave when happy. That was a grin that a snake gave before striking out and lethally poisoning his victim.

Negan gave a shrug. "Didn't know it wasn't public information."

Daryl kept staring at him.

"And Statesman Blake ran a background check on you, your brother and sister-in-law," Negan added and Daryl bristled at that. "Had to know who owned the place we were meeting at, didn't we? Had to make sure it wasn't bugged or something more… nefarious," he said with that same grin and he probably thought that Daryl was too damn stupid to know a word like that.

 _"If you're starting to feel yourself lose your temper, start mentally counting to yourself. I know it sounds silly or even stupid, but if you start counting, and really concentrate on it, your breathing will start to inhale and exhale with each count and that in turn, will steady your heart and you'll start to feel a calm come over you…"_

Daryl began counting, never taking his eyes off of Negan. The man wouldn't stop grinning at him. Even as he sipped the beer, his lips curved around the top of the bottle and his eyes never left Daryl, either.

"You and your brother certainly have quite a history between you," Negan said. "I am surprised that Beth would be okay, being around people who would do such things. Assault, drug possession, burglary, nearly killing their dad…"

 _Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two…_

"It just seems weird to me," Negan was saying. "You and your brother were convicted of those things and actually served time. But it seems like – no matter how pretty that girl is – she likes to pass judgment on those not ever found guilty."

No Daryl, Daryl was swift to tell himself. If he punched this guy, that would be it for him. He'd be breaking his parole and he would have to go back to prison to serve out the rest of his sentence and another two years of his life would be gone.

Beth would be gone. He would demand it. He wouldn't want her to wait for him.

And if he lost Beth, he would for damn sure lose everything else, too. For the first time in his life, he had things together and he was _not_ going to lose it because of this asshole in front of him, still grinning as if they were the best of friends.

"Carol," Daryl said when he caught his sister-in-law walking past the bar with a tray in hand, having just dropped some food off to one of the tables.

She stopped and saw him and there must have been something in his eyes because she stiffened slightly as if preparing herself for battle. Carol was a lot tougher than most people gave her credit for. She may have been beaten down for a good part of her life, but now she was a Dixon and Dixons didn't take shit from anyone.

"I have to go talk to Merle for a second. Can you watch the bar?" Daryl asked her.

"Of course," Carol didn't hesitate in answering.

"Keep a close eye on that girl of yours, Daryl," Negan said as Daryl turned, walking away, still counting in his head, now up to seventy.

He would not punch him. He would not even think about punching him or doing anything else to him because if he imagined it that was one step closer to actually doing it and he was working on managing his anger and not acting on a fly impulse, but he still was a work in progress – he knew that – and he had to remove himself.

"Hey, lil' brother. Pee break?" Merle asked when Daryl came into the kitchen.

"I had to get out of there," Daryl said and reached for the pack of cigarettes and lighter Merle kept on the shelf where he kept the radio. He saw that his hands were shaking and Merle stopped in the middle of plating a couple baskets of fish and chips, noticing, too.

"Hey," Merle said in a softer voice than normal and came up to him. "Wha' is it?"

"That bodyguard for the Statesman… he's out there and he's pissin' me off," Daryl said, taking a cigarette and putting it in his mouth, resting it on his bottom lip, but he didn't light it – not while in the kitchen.

"Alrigh'," Merle said, not needing any more explanation. "I'll get 'im out of here."

"Nah, Merle. He's a payin' customer," Daryl said even as Merle walked past him towards the door and Merle turned his head back towards him with a frown.

"Fuck that," Merle said and left the kitchen, heading out towards the bar.

Daryl didn't follow after him though. He wasn't ready to get back in there. He walked through the kitchen and stepped out into the lot behind the bar. His hands were still shaking as he lit the cigarette. The night was cold – coldest of the year so far – and as he leaned against the wall behind him, he could see his breath in between exhales of cigarette smoke from between hips lips.

He took a moment and closed his eyes.

 _Ninety-seven. Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. One hundred_.

Hershel was right.

His breathing started lining up with his counting and in response to that, his pulse also began to steady itself. But his damn hands were still shaking and balancing the cigarette on his bottom lip, he curled his fingers into fists and closed his eyes.

 _Calm down, Daryl_ , he told himself. _Calm the fuck down_.

But he still could hear Negan's words in his head.

 _Keep a close eye on that girl of yours, Daryl._

What the hell could he do to keep Beth safe? The State of Georgia didn't even trust him with a crossbow right now.

He thought of Beth, upstairs in the bathroom, taking a bath, soaking in a cloud of bubbles that probably smelled like sugar or chocolate. He wondered if she could calm him down. He wondered if he went up there with shaking hands, would she be afraid of him. She knew why he had been in prison. Did she – for a second – think that he would ever hurt her? If Beth thought that, he would gladly go back to prison instead of living in a free world where Beth Green was scared of him.

Throwing the cigarette butt to the ground and smashing it with the toe of his boot, Daryl headed back into the kitchen. Merle still wasn't back and he hoped his brother and Negan weren't getting into it because then Daryl would really have to put his shaking hands to use if Negan put his hand on any of his family.

The furniture had arrived and he and Beth had arranged it. He had also bought a couple of bookshelves so all of his books weren't just piled in stacks on the floor now and he had also bought a couple of big floor rugs from Big Lots. The apartment was still big, but at least with actual furniture in it, it didn't feel _as_ big.

It was home.

He closed and locked the door behind him and then headed straight down the hall. Sure enough, Beth was in the bath. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, there were bubbles nearly up to her shoulders and she was reading a book. She had even lit a candle and carefully set it on the floor nearby.

Her eyes flew up when she saw him in the doorway.

"Hi!" She greeted warmly, but then paused. "What time is it? Have I been in here that long? The water hasn't gone cold."

"Nah," Daryl shook his head and remained standing in the doorway, just looking at her for a moment. The air smelled like chocolate and _Beth_ and what the hell was she doing here with a guy like him; a guy who's hands were still shaking slightly?

"Oh," Beth said, confused for a moment, but then it passed. "Ready for your bath?" She then asked, her beaming smile returning.

"Actually, I gotta talk to you 'bout somethin' first," he said and he wondered if she would still want him anywhere near her – let alone in the bath with her – when he was done.

"Alright," she said and her voice was already gentle and completely understanding.

Daryl finally stepped into the room and went to the toilet, setting the lid down and then sitting down on it. Beth turned in the water, setting her book down on the floor, and he nearly smirked when he saw she was reading a book on Ted Bundy. Of course. What else would she be reading in the bathtub?

"Is everything okay?" She asked him after a minute passed and he didn't say anything. "Do you want me to leave? Is that what this is? It's okay if that what-"

"Nah, Beth. You can jus' stop those thoughts right now," Daryl said and couldn't help, but frown. "Christ, I don't wan' you to ever leave."

It took him a moment to realize what he had just said and the back of his neck flushed, but he didn't spit out a stuttering backtrack and Beth kept looking at him.

He exhaled a deep breath.

Here goes.

"Did you look at my file? 'bout why I was arrested?" He asked. "With all the access you get, I don't blame you if you looked."

Beth's eyes widened and then slowly, they slid closed and she nodded her head, visibly swallowed. She then turned in the tub, so she was facing him and her eyes opened again so she could look at him.

"I did. I'm so, so sorry I did," she said in a rush. "I never should have looked-"

"'m glad you did and like I said, I don't blame you," he said and hoped that she believed him because it was the truth.

He would have been surprised if she _hadn't_ looked into his record. Girl was finding herself being attracted to a man who served time. Most girls would want to make sure that they weren't wanting to start dating Ted Bundy.

"I mean it, Beth. 's okay." He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. He made sure he looked to her face and nowhere else while he said all of this. "You saw that the guy I beat was my ol' man."

Beth slowly nodded.

He exhaled a deep breath.

"You've seen my scars and I told that story 'bout my ma. My dad, he was the meanest son of a bitch you could ever meet. Always drunk. Always pissed off. Livin' with him…" Daryl trailed off.

He could tell from the way Beth was looking at him. She knew without actually knowing and Daryl didn't want to talk about it anyway.

"It wasn' good," he finally decided that that was all he would say about it. "When I was sixteen, my ma was dead and I left home and started followin' Merle round. Didn't know what I was doin' or what I was goin' to do, but anything was better than bein' under Will Dixon's roof anymore.

"Eventually, me and Merle were back in our hometown. One of his buddies was home from prison and there was a big welcome home party for him. Only thing was, and we didn' know until we got there, our ol' man was there, too. Near the whole damn town was there, so why wouldn' he be?"

Daryl exhaled another stream of air. Beth didn't look away from him.

"He was drunk. 'course he was. Merle was actually bein' smart. He was out on parole and knew that he didn't wanna go back so he stayed away from 'im. But me… I don't know. It was a stupid decision that ruined my entire life. He was drunk and sayin' shit to me. Shit 'bout my ma and me and laughin' 'bout all the things he used to do… I punched 'im and I don't know what happened to me, Beth, but when I started, I couldn' stop. It took four guys to get me off of him and when they finally did… I thought he was gonna die and do you know what? In that second, lookin' down at him, feelin' the handcuffs go on my wrists, I knew that if I had killed 'im, I wouldn't even really care. Death was pretty much the only thing he ever deserved."

He looked at her and she looked at him and neither moved for either a minute or an hour. He didn't know.

"So, I guess the question should be, do _you_ wan' _me_ to leave?" He asked her.

Beth didn't even hesitate in reaching her hands out, her arms stretching forward, bubbles clinging to her skin and water dropping on the floor. She reached for him and Daryl slid forward on the toilet seat until his forehead met hers and her wet arms were around his neck, holding him close, but wanting him closer.

"I love you," she whispered to him.

Daryl pulled his head back from her, looking at her as if to make sure that she really meant those words. He had never had anyone say those words to him – not even his ma. Merle had said them, sure, but there was something very different about Merle saying them and Beth saying them.

He felt instantly warm and like the ground was no longer beneath him. Was he supposed to feel like that? It didn't feel wrong, that was for sure.

He didn't say anything and he stood up only so he could start taking his clothes off and she moved herself forward so he could get behind her in the tub. Once he was settled, Beth moved back until she was between his thighs and her back was to his chest. Daryl wrapped his arms around her front, squeezing them, and leaned down, pressing his face to the side of her throat.

His hands weren't shaking anymore.

…

* * *

 **Beth will have her own confession to make in the next chapter.**

 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you so much for all of the birthday wishes and the reviews on the last chapter. Honestly, it blew me away.**

* * *

…

 **Nineteen.**

"Shit."

Beth lifted her head and saw Zach standing in the entrance of her cubicle.

"It's true?" He asked.

"It's true," Beth gave him a nod and a small, yet warm, smile. "It's okay."

"Is it?"

"It is."

Beth stopped in the middle of packing the box on her desk and Zach stepped into the cubicle, letting out a heavy sigh as he dropped himself into the chair across from her.

"They didn't fire you, did they?" Zach asked.

"Is that the story going around?" Beth wondered and she then wondered how there could possibly be a story already.

It had only been Aiden, Andrea and herself in Aiden's office and then, she had come straight to her cubicle to start packing her belongings, not stopping to speak with anyone along the way. She supposed though that a story of her being fired made sense. After all, she had just returned from her suspension the day before and her suspension hadn't been a secret to anyone in the office. How could it have been? She had been gone for a week and the reason for it had to be told to everyone.

Zach shrugged. "You know how it is."

Beth nodded and resumed her packing. Normally, if an employee was no longer working for the office, someone else would have to stand with them as they packed their desk up in case they tried to take sensitive materials with them. Beth knew – that despite everything – it spoke volumes that Aiden and Andrea trusted her to pack up her cubicle without an escort.

"I was the one to hand in my resignation to them," Beth told him and Zach's eyes widened ever so slightly. "It was time," she said. "I have given so many hours to this firm and I absolutely loved it, but I don't love it that much anymore. I don't love what we all do here as much as I probably should."

Zach sat forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Jesus, Beth," he whispered and shook his head. "So what are you going to do now?" He looked at her again.

"I'm going to put my application in with the DA's office. Maybe do something for the city or even the county… it's a long shot, but there's no harm in trying." Beth took a moment to go through her filing cabinets, to make sure that she had left no personal notes to herself shoved in any of the folders there, and Zach sat quietly, thinking things through. "I've also been thinking about writing a book," Beth told him though she wasn't entirely sure why.

Daryl was the only person she had told so far. Not even her parents or Maggie knew. She didn't know why. Maybe she worried that most would think it was a stupid idea. How many people said they wanted to write a book?

"About what?" Zach asked and he didn't seem to be judging or making fun of her. If anything, he seemed intrigued.

"Serial killers," she said and he smiled at that.

"Of course," he was teasing now, but Beth didn't mind. She laughed a little. A moment passed and his smiled faded. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yes," Beth answered without pause and it was amazing to her how much faith she had in her answer. Why wouldn't she be okay? Yes, she didn't have a job, but that was just for the moment. She would find another job and in the meantime, she had money saved and if she wasn't happy here, life was too short to stay unhappy.

And – even though she had no plans on taking him up on it – Daryl said that he didn't want her to worry about money. He made good money at the bar and didn't have that many expenses himself and though she loved him for even offering to take care of her, she didn't expect him to. She loved being a paralegal and she would find a job that would allow her to continue that work. She did not expect anyone to take care of her while she diddled around in life. Her daddy had raised a hard worker in her and her siblings. It wasn't in her nature to not do anything.

"What the hell am I going to do here without you?" She heard Zach ask and she turned away from the filing cabinets to look at the man sitting in the chair.

Zach had always been a good friend to her. As the two youngest employed at Harris & Monroe aside from the interns they had every summer, they were close. Spending time talking about work and things outside of it. She considered him a close friend and she knew that Zach thought the same of her. She was sure that it helped a little that she was the only female – aside from Andrea – who didn't seem to have a crush on the handsome young lawyer. It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy the attention – because he certainly did – but it seemed to annoy him at times, too.

Maybe she should have confided in Zach about her feelings in regards to Statesman Blake's case. Maybe he would have been able to help her.

Well, even if he had been able to help her, it was too late now and she was glad that she hadn't asked him. Either he would have refused and she would have understood, but still would have been unable to help, but be a little hurt, or he would have helped and would have gotten in trouble right alongside her.

"Don't be dramatic," Beth said with a smile. "I'm leaving here. Not town. We can still spend time together if you want."

"Who is going to entertain me during those stupid charity functions?" He asked.

Beth smiled faintly. She had really wanted to take Daryl to one of those functions and she admitted that it had just been because she had wanted to see her handsome boyfriend in a suit. She was going to have to get him into a suit some other way.

"I guess you're just going to have to find another work wife," Beth shrugged.

"Fuck that," Zach frowned and she couldn't help, but laugh.

"You'll be fine," she assured him.

Lastly, she took the small stack of personal notes she had taken while speaking with Lilly Chambler and put them into the box. She had had them the night of the break-in and she had had them with her since. She had brought them with her today, thinking that maybe she would hand them over to Aiden; thinking that maybe he would want to see them and… and what? Change his mind? No, she knew that wouldn't happen. Aiden was one of the best lawyers in the area and it was because he defended his clients despite what his own opinions of them might be.

Even if she did take and pass the bar exam, Beth knew she would never be as good as a lawyer as both Aiden and Andrea were. They had that "off" switch – everyone in the office did – that Beth seemed to be lacking.

She looked down at the notes and read over the words that Lilly had spoken to her; words of what had happened in their hotel room the night – meeting the man in the hotel bar and being flattered with his attention; the rough sex that got so violent, it left Lilly bruised and bleeding afterwards. The choking and the tying of her wrists and ankles and the beatings… And Lilly had thought she deserved to live with that all of these years because she had taken hush money.

Statesman Blake was not a good man and Beth understood why Lilly had gone to the papers, wanting everyone to hear her story and maybe changing one mind about him. Beth could only hope that one good thing would come out of all of this. She hoped that this man did not become Georgia's Governor.

"Let me see those," Zach said, startling her.

She hadn't even realized that he had stood up and had come to stand beside her. He looked down and saw the yellow papers taken from her legal pad.

"No, Zach. I can't let you," she began to protest, but Zach ignored them and took them from her hands easily enough. She watched him as his eyes scanned over everything she had written. "Zach, you'll get in trouble…"

Zach dropped his arms, the papers still in his hand, hanging at his side. "Don't worry about it," was all he said and Beth had no idea what he meant by that. "Give me a call next week? We'll get lunch at the lunch counter in the courthouse," he suggested.

Beth wanted to ask him what he was going to do with the papers, but she didn't ask for them back. She knew that he wouldn't give them back.

"I don't have copies," she said, still confused and now worried as well.

Zach gave a nod. "Go say goodbye to everyone while I make copies."

Beth kept looking at him, frowning, and a slight crease between her eyebrows, but that was what she did. She walked to everyone, saying her goodbyes, receiving hugs and she made promises that she would keep in touch. Beth wasn't sure if that was an empty promise or not. She liked everyone she had worked with in the law firm, but things happened. She wouldn't be here, seeing them every day, and life happened. She knew that for many of them, this would be the last time she would see any of them. And that made her more emotional than she had anticipated.

They probably thought the tears in her eyes was because she wasn't working here anymore.

She debated going to say one more goodbye to Aiden and Andrea, but she decided against it. They had all shaken hands and her former bosses had told her that she had been the best paralegal they had ever had and they had wished her luck and that should have been it. That _would_ be that.

Back at her cubicle, Zach had returned, holding her box and the yellow papers no longer in his hand.

"I'll walk you out," he offered.

"Don't. You've taken enough time saying goodbye," Beth said. She took the box from his arms into hers and was surprised when he let her. "Next week," she promised.

"Next week," he affirmed and then leaned in, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side for a hug. "I put your notes back in the box," he whispered to her. "And I've already put the copies in the top drawer of my desk that has a lock."

"Zach, don't get yourself in trouble," Beth whispered to him in return.

Zach just squeezed his arm around her shoulders and then shrugged his own. "I'm just going to be reading some notes. No harm in that."

"All I did was _take_ some notes," she pointed out to him.

"Eh. My cases, at the moment, are so boring."

"You're an idiot," Beth said even though she knew, without a doubt, that she was grateful that she had a friend who was willing to look over what she had written and see if he believed the woman or their firm's client. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Zach gave a nod. "See you next week."

…

She drove home – home to the Pine Cone – and parked in the back. She wondered when she began considering this place home, but that exactly was what this place was. Home. Daryl and her daddy had helped her clean out her little white house and almost all of her things were now upstairs in the apartment. She had been worried that she was completely taking over the space, but Daryl hadn't minded. In fact, she would sometimes see him looking at the framed art prints hanging on the walls or her piano next to one of the living room windows or her quilt folded over the back of his couch and he would be smiling a little.

She had loved her little house. It had been her favorite place in the entire world, but then someone had broken in – Sheriff Grimes said there were still no leads – and that person had completely shattered her sanctuary. The truth was, she could have moved back in there, but she didn't feel safe there anymore. In the apartment above the bar, there were people around, yes, if she needed someone. But also, hardly anyone ever came upstairs to knock on Daryl's apartment. There was still very much a feeling of complete privacy of living there.

And now, she loved living in that apartment.

Hershel had helped her put the house up on the market and there had been a few showings already.

Plus, now that she was unemployed, living with Daryl would help with the bills.

With her box in her arms, Beth locked her car and headed up the stairs. It was a little after ten – she having gone into the office that day just to hand in her resignation and to clean out her space – and she figured Daryl would still be sleeping. He had worked the night before and had crawled into bed sometime after three. She _hoped_ he was still asleep. He worked so hard – helping Merle and Carol with the bar – and though some nights were crazier than others, that didn't mean that he didn't work himself down to the absolute bone.

She certainly hadn't fallen in love with a louse; that was for sure.

She opened the door and her eyes fell upon Daryl sitting on the couch – lounging more like it with his feet up on the coffee table in front of him – and Sophia was sitting in the armchair, Daryl's laptop open on her lap, but both were watching whatever it was that was on television. Both turned their heads when they heard the door and Beth smiled at them both.

"Hi, Beth!" Sophia greeted excitedly. "Guess what?"

"What?" Beth smiled at the girl as Daryl rose up from the couch to come and meet her and before she could tell him not to, he took the box from her arms and went to go put it into the second smaller bedroom where they had put her desk.

"Someone called in a bomb threat at my school!" Sophia was practically beaming.

"That's terrible," Beth frowned a little, wondering who would do such a thing.

"No, it's not! School was cancelled for the day and I get to spend it with Uncle Daryl and you!" Sophia then pointed to the screen. "I got Uncle Daryl to take me to the library and we rented _Blair Witch Project_. It's the perfect movie for us to watch before camping this weekend. Do you want to watch it with us?"

"I would love to," Beth smiled at the young girl. "I'm just going to get myself changed out of these clothes first. You don't have to pause it though."

She _definitely_ did not have to pause it.

Sophia smiled and nodded and went back to watching the movie.

"Pause it, Sophia!" Daryl called out.

Beth went down the hallway to see Daryl still in the second bedroom. When she had officially moved in, they had moved her desk into the room along with her bed – so they had a spare one, just in case. Daryl had set the box down on the desk, and now was looking around the room as if he was thinking something over.

Beth stood in the doorway and watched him with a faint smile. It was still amazing to her. She had been coming to the bar for months with a crush on the surly bartender – his voice rough and his outward appearance intimidating and yet one that gave her squeezes in her stomach whenever she laid eyes on him. She would sit on her stool and drink her Shirley Temples and think that he would never notice her because who would ever notice her?

But Daryl did. He had noticed her all along.

Daryl turned, seeing her in the doorway. ""m thinkin' we need to get you some file cabinets or somethin'," he thought out loud. "Or… I don't know. You're gonna be doin' plenty of research and you're gonna need somethin' to keep it all straight."

"Research?" Beth asked.

"For your book," he stated as if her writing it was already set in stone. "And 'm gonna get you a cork-board and hang it on the wall," Daryl then added.

"A cork-board?" Beth repeated as if she had never heard of such a thing.

"Yeah. I heard some writers like those things to tack their notes onto 'em," Daryl said. "What do you think?" He asked, looking to her.

What did she think? She felt sick, to be honest, but not in a bad way. Her heart was twisting and her stomach was churning, but it was doing all of these things in the best way possible. And it was all because of this man in front of her. She loved him so, so much. She didn't even know if she was able to explain or even fathom just how much she loved this man. And though he hadn't said the same thing to her – and she didn't expect him to – she had no doubt in her mind that Daryl cared for her deeply.

When she was around this man, Beth always felt warm and light and she had never felt that before. She felt completely loved.

Without a word, Beth came to him, stepping right up to him, and she slid her arms around his waist. Turning her head, she rested her ear on her chest, the steady thump of his heart echoing in her ear. She closed her eyes once she felt Daryl's arms enclose around her and hold her tight and close.

"I think it sounds perfect to me," Beth said to him in a soft voice, keeping her ear on his chest and her eyes remained closed, losing herself in the still steady beat.

After a moment, she felt Daryl's chin on top of her head and his arms tightened. "Me, too," he said and she smiled.

…

It was Daryl's night off from the bar, but it was the night of his anger management meeting and after Carol came upstairs to pick Sophia up, Daryl went to take a shower and Beth went into the bedroom to unpack her box from work.

She kept waiting for a wave of panic to hit her. She had quit her job today. She no longer had a job. She wouldn't be paid and she didn't have benefits and what the hell was she going to do? She had a dozen reasons to start panicking and thinking about going back to Aiden and Andrea tomorrow and begging them to give her job back.

But no feeling like that came over her and she didn't necessarily understand it, but she wasn't going to question it either. She felt completely relaxed and for the first time in months, there weren't knots in her shoulders. She had a feeling that she was going to have a very good night's sleep that night.

The shower turned off and then a minute later, the door to the bathroom opened and from the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl. Lifting her head and looking at him, she saw him standing in the doorway with wet hair and a towel around his waist. She gave him a smile and he smiled a little back.

"'m gonna make us some dinner 'fore I have to leave," Daryl said. "You got a taste for anythin' in particular?"

"I can make dinner, Daryl," Beth reminded him as she always did.

"I like makin' you dinner," he then took his turn to remind her as he always did.

He left then and went into their bedroom to get dressed again and Beth finished unpacking – just some random knick-knacks she had had on her desk in her cubicle and she now arranged them on her desk here.

She wondered if the reason why she wasn't panicking was because she knew how good she was at her job. It had been no secret that she had been the best paralegal in the law firm and Andrea and Aiden had often tried to snag her first for their cases. Andrea had already promised that she would write a letter of recommendation.

Also, when she told her parents that she was going to leave the law firm, they had been almost relieved; as if they had known how hard she was working and how much stress she was under and Beth didn't know these things, too, until she left.

And the more she thought about her idea for a possible book, the more Beth found herself really wanting to write it.

For dinner, Daryl tried his hand at making them BLT sandwiches and he almost looked nervous as Beth took her first bite. She almost wanted to laugh and tell him that making BLTs wasn't _that_ hard, but she didn't dare, and instead, she made a dramatic moan as she chewed and kissed him on the cheek.

"Perfection," she assured him and his ears turned red at that. "It's better than mine."

"Don't go overboard, girl," Daryl said and she laughed.

They ate and then standing side-by-side at the sink, Beth washed the dishes and the pan and Daryl dried. She smiled to herself at the domesticity of it all; the level of complete comfort that she felt while around this man. It was so amazing to her that she had found this – finally – after wanting it for so long and she wondered if she would always feel this sense of wonderment when around Daryl.

She could only hope.

Daryl tied on his boots and then slipped on his jacket, heading to the door, making sure he had his keys and his wallet, and Beth went with him. At the door, he leaned down and she tilted her chin up and he dropped a kiss to her lips.

"Have a good meeting," she smiled at him and Daryl's own lips twitched a little even though he didn't really want them to.

She knew that having to go to anger management meetings embarrassed him. She didn't know why it would though. It was just further proof that he was doing everything he could to better himself. He had made a mistake, but it was obvious that he had learned from it and was never going to make it again.

Once Daryl left, Beth turned the light off in the kitchen and could hear the dull hum of noise from the bar coming up through the floorboards. The noise was muffled and it had almost become comforting in a way.

After watching movies with Sophia that day, Beth decided against watching more television. She moved to her record player that had been placed underneath one of the windows and she put on a Joni Mitchell record before taking her book and lying down on the couch, turning on the lamp and enjoying a quiet night of reading.

Time completely escaped from her because when she heard the door open again, it was completely dark outside and the record had finished one side, still waiting to be turned to the other side. Daryl entered with a large brown paper bag under his arm.

"Hey," he said when he saw her and pulled his eyes from the lock.

"Hi." Beth sat up and her eyes went to the clock on the microwave.

Goodness, she had been reading for almost two hours and hadn't even realized it. When was the last time she was able to read for that long of a time without being interrupted with calls from work or the urge to do more research on a case?

"How was the meeting?" She asked and he came to sit down next to her, still wearing his jacket.

He gave a nod. "Good. I stopped by the art museum on my way home and picked you up somethin'." And with that, he put the large, flat bag down on her lap.

"What is it?" Beth asked.

Daryl didn't answer her. Instead, he just looked at her and Beth slowly, slipped her hand inside, taking hold of the frame inside. When she carefully slid it out, she gasped and she stared down at it as if she had never seen it before.

"Hated the fact that yours got smashed and all crumpled up," Daryl said. "Knew it was one of your favorites and 's one of mine, too."

Beth felt hot tears flood her eyes as she looked down at Andrew Wyeth's 'Cristina's World'. He had bought her another print, a much larger one than she had had, already matted and framed, and her hand lightly swept across the glass. Again, she felt completely overwhelmed with the amount of love that she felt for this man.

"Daryl… it's perfect," she whispered.

She exhaled a shaky breath and then leaned backwards into the cushions of the couch, keeping the frame across her thighs, and she looked at him. Daryl followed her lead and leaned back next to her.

"I was popular in high school. Ridiculously popular," Beth heard herself say. "I was voted most likely to succeed, best smile, best all around… I had so many friends, I didn't know what to do with most of them. And college was pretty much the same. I went to law school and just expected it would be the same. But it really wasn't because it seemed like every spare second I had, I was in the library, studying. I met a few people – mostly from my dorm or my classes. No one I would call a friend.

"There were a few girls though. They seemed friendly enough and seemed to always come to my room, asking what I was doing and if I could help them with some of their assignments for classes and I didn't see anything wrong with it because they were so nice to me. Why wouldn't I be nice back?"

Beth dared to look at Daryl and he was looking right at her, not saying anything.

"I should have known, of course. They never invited me to go anywhere with them. I would see their pictures up on Facebook and they would all be at parties or out to dinner together and they never invited me. And it hurt. I can't help that it did. I thought they liked hanging out with me, but I realized that that was only when it came to classes or mock trials. They didn't actually like _me_. Just my brain."

She sighed.

"It took me a while to take the hint though. I asked them if they would want to go out for my birthday, but they all had one excuse or another of why they couldn't. I didn't do anything for my birthday. I wound up staying in my room and studying and I saw the pictures they posted the next day of a dinner they had all gone to the night before. I didn't want it to hurt, but I couldn't help it."

"'course you couldn'," Daryl final spoke. "You're too nice and most people with a workin' brain in their heads know that you're one of the sweetest people 'round."

Beth smiled a little at that. "I hated that it took me so long to realize though that they weren't actually my friends. I hated myself that I was so terrible at reading people."

Daryl was quiet for a moment. "'s why you totally read me wrong in Whole Foods that day," he remembered.

Beth nodded, remembering, too. "I was telling myself how stupid I was, doing it again. Trying to spend my time with someone who didn't want to spend theirs with me. I was so angry with myself and embarrassed and sad and-"

"Completely wrong," Daryl offered and she smiled warmly at that.

"I know that now," she replied. "I just really hate what those girls did to me because now, I just… I just like keeping to myself and it drives Maggie crazy because I'm young and she thinks I'm giving those bitches from school too much power."

Daryl was quiet for a moment, thinking everything through and then shrugged. "Ain't nothin' wrong with wantin' to be alone. 'cept for you, I don't really like anyone bein' around for a long period of time."

Beth smiled a little at that, but then it faded. "Compared to you, it's such a _nothing_ problem to have."

"Don't mean it ain't still a problem. Everyone goes through different shit and I don't think anyone's shit should be compared to others."

Beth looked at him, somewhat amazed that this man sitting next to her was actually real and would want to spend his time with her – willingly.

"You're perfect," she told him then and he promptly snorted at that. "I mean it, Daryl. You're just… you're perfect."

"For you maybe," he shrugged, clearly embarrassed. "But even then, I think you're settin' your sights real low."

"You buy me my favorite painting. You get a sandwich named after me on the menu because you know how much I love it. You let me move in here with you. You encourage me about writing a book and you don't think it's stupid. You listen to me. _Really_ listen to me. You've never lied to me. You keep me safe. You love me."

She waited for Daryl to deny that, but he remained quiet and kept staring at her.

"You are. You're perfect for me," she said, almost amazed as if just now realizing this.

Daryl visibly swallowed and rubbed his hands on his thighs. "When I got out a few months ago… I was never expectin' that I would have someone like you in my life."

Beth gave him the softest smile and moved her head closer to his. "Me, neither," she whispered and when Daryl closed the rest of the space between them and he kissed her, one of his hands sliding up over her cheek, Beth got the strangest sense come over her.

Happiness and contentment in their complete forms and for the first time in twenty-seven years, Beth wondered if this was the feeling a person got when their life was finally starting.

…

* * *

 **The next chapter will be the last.**

 **Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Another finished story and honestly, this became one of my favorites. I was always so happy to write it because there was different feel to it than any of my others. Thank you to those who enjoyed reading it and let me know!**

* * *

…

 **Twenty.**

"Stop walking on my heel, Glenn!"

"Stop walking so slow!"

"If we don't walk slowly, we'll make even more noise."

Daryl wanted to roll his eyes at the chatter of the three people behind him, but instead, he just smirked a little and followed the beam of the flashlight Beth was aiming on the ground in front of them. He hadn't necessarily wanted to go for a walk in the woods at night, but Sophia had insisted. Something about how Slender Man liked the darkness and if they looked for him in the dark, they'd definitely find him.

Glenn, of course, had protested. Anything Sophia said about Slender Man, he protested, but Sophia had simply rolled her eyes at him and Maggie told him that he needed to be more adventurous and he kept his grumblings to under his breath.

Like Daryl had told Sophia a while back, he had never gone camping like this.

They had parked in a rest stop parking lot that was at the edge of the woods and with their packs on their backs, they headed into the trees. Daryl had them hike for nearly twenty minutes before he found a spot he deemed as a good one – near a little stream and with tall trees all around them, but a clearing big enough for their tents and for him to make them a fire. He had never camped with tents before, but Beth and Maggie got them set up with no problem. He wasn't going to worry about sleeping arrangements for the time being. Five of them and only two tents. They would figure it out when the time came.

Once Daryl had gotten the fire going, Beth took the cooler that Daryl had carried and she showed everyone the sandwiches she had packed, wrapped in plastic. Different meats and cheeses, but all on onion rolls. She had also packed bags of potato chips, bottles of sodas – no high fructose syrup in the bottled soda and she was still trying to avoid that as much as possible – and pears and Daryl smirked as he sat there, eating his dinner and a part of him wondered how the hell he got to this exact spot.

And now, after spending about an hour walking around the woods, looking for a thing that didn't really exist just to show his niece that Slender Man actually _didn't_ exist, they returned to their camp. There were still a few glowing embers in the fire pit and Beth shone the flashlight over it so Daryl could get the fire started again.

"I can't believe we didn't find anything," Sophia said dejectedly, plopping down on the ground as the flames began growing in front of her.

"You _wanted_ to find something?" Glenn frowned at her as he sat himself down in one of the lawn chairs he had insisted on bringing. "That thing goes after kids and what were we going to do if he just popped up and tried to take you?"

Sophia shrugged. "My Uncle Daryl would have stopped him," she stated matter-of-factly with a shrug; as if she didn't have a single doubt in her mind that Daryl would keep her safe.

Daryl smiled a little to himself, his chest feeling like it was puffing out with pride, as he added a few more sticks to the fire. He knew it was probably stupid, but hell yeah, he felt proud that his niece knew that he would do anything to keep her safe.

The Dixon family tree wasn't a good one.

Hell, he was surprised it hadn't been torched down to ground years earlier. But one thing with the family, even while they were beating the hell out of each other, they always stood shoulder to shoulder against an outside threat. Will Dixon might have beat the hell out of him, but Daryl knew that his old man wouldn't have let anyone else beat him and Daryl might have nearly beat the man to death, but he'd be damned if someone else took that satisfaction away from him. Same thing with Merle. Daryl didn't know what he would have done without his older brother – especially through the past couple of years.

Sophia was a Dixon now and Daryl would pretty much light this entire earth on fire to make sure that she was safe.

His eyes looked to Beth as she was going through the bag of more food she had packed, digging out the supplies needed to make S'mores.

Daryl wondered if she knew that he would burn the earth for her, too.

Beth had even brought metal prongs with her so they could all toast their marshmallows over the flames and she sat next to Daryl on the ground, laughing as she showed him how to construct the perfect S'more in her opinion. Both Maggie and Sophia liked their marshmallows practically burnt and Glenn just ate the chocolate bars and marshmallows without toasting them. Daryl watched Beth carefully as she guided the roasted, gooey marshmallow onto the chocolate block and then used the graham cracker to pull it from the prong.

"See?" Beth smiled brightly at him as if she had just achieved the greatest thing. It made Daryl smile a little, too. "Easy. Your turn."

Daryl took the prong from her and Beth stabbed a marshmallow onto the end of it and he held it over the embers near the bottom instead of directly over the flame. Within seconds, it was toasted and he followed what she had just done. When he took his first bite of his first S'more, he heard a click and turning his head, he saw that Beth had her phone out and was taking a picture of him. She just laughed at the look he gave her and then took another bite of her own S'more.

"Good?" She asked.

"Good," he agreed with a single nod of his head.

" _Slight_ understatement, but I'll take it," she teased and he smirked a little.

"Beth, have you decided yet?" Maggie asked, finished with her first S'more and now stabbing another marshmallow onto her prong to make another.

Beth took a moment to chew and swallow before nodding eagerly while smiling. "I have. I knew I wanted to write about something in Georgia so Daryl would be able to come with me on my research trips. In two more years, we'll be able to go anywhere, but for now, there was more than enough to choose from just in our state."

Daryl chewed his S'more and didn't say anything.

And no one else said anything either. They all knew Daryl had served time, but it was almost like as if had just become one of those things that was never thought about. Kind of like when you woke up in the morning and sure enough, the sun was rising in the east. It was just how things were. Daryl served time in prison. It was just how things were. But he was out now and he missed his crossbow, being out here in the woods, but he had his niece and his girlfriend and they were eating S'mores and there was something pretty damn good about that.

Beth had sold her house and had put the money right into her savings account and she had filed her application with the DA's office, but Daryl knew that Beth wasn't holding her breath. She didn't even know if they were hiring and if they were, there were many more qualified paralegals than her.

Daryl thought she could get any damn job she wanted and her new boss would be damn lucky to have her, but there was a reason he was working behind a bar and not running a law firm. He obviously didn't know the first thing about it.

For now, Beth was running headfirst into her book idea and had finally told her family her plans. They had been a little hesitant – just because saying she wanted to write a book was so much easier said than done – but Beth was nothing if not determined and they all knew that. Beth researched and worked hard and when she said she was going to do something, she did it.

Since she had no income coming in at the moment, her greatest worry had been wearing out her welcome with Daryl, but he had been sure to tell her – more than once until she believed him – that he liked her being there with him. It made the apartment feel like a home rather than somewhere he collapsed after his shifts. He didn't care about taking care of her. He _wanted_ to take care of her.

He had never had anything in his life to take care of before and with Beth, he realized that that was all he wanted to do. If he could take care of her for the rest of his life, well, that would be a pretty damn good life, in his opinion.

"The Atlanta Ripper," Beth said before licking some marshmallow from her finger.

"Who was that?" Sophia asked, finished with her S'more now and she pulled her legs up, hugging her knees to her chest. Ever since she found out that Beth was going to be writing a book about a serial killer, she has been excited in a way that made it seem as if she was going to be writing it, too. She had told Daryl more than once that his girlfriend was so cool.

"Well," Beth smiled, her own excitement shining through.

Daryl, finished with his S'more now, too, dusted his hands off and then leaned back against the trunk of a tree behind him, watching her. Even with the fire illuminating her face, he could see how eager she was to talk about. He smirked a little to himself. He had never met anyone like Beth Greene before.

"Starting in 1911, in Atlanta, and going until 1914, there were twenty-one murders that were thought to all be done by the same person. They were all women, all in their twenties, all African-American and all with their throats slit. Over the course of the investigation, they arrested six different suspects, but nothing was proven. And then in 1914, the murders simply stopped."

Everyone was quiet for a moment, hearing the fire pop and an owl hoot nearby.

"That's great, Bethy," Maggie teased with a little laugh, and Beth gave one, too.

"There is a _ton_ of research I have to do," Beth said. "I love it. And then Daryl and me are going to go to Atlanta so I can take pictures of some of the areas where the murders were and maybe, if I can find out if there is any surviving family nearby…"

"What the hell kind of family am I getting myself into?" Glenn suddenly demanded, looking to Maggie with a frown.

Maggie and Glenn shared one tent and it was decided that Sophia and Beth would share the other as Daryl slept outside. He didn't mind. He missed sleeping outside, on the ground like this, looking up at the trees and stars. He hadn't really been out like this since getting out of prison. He figured that if he wasn't allowed to have his crossbow, there was no point in being out in the woods.

But camping like this with his family, it was the first time he had ever done anything like this and he didn't want it to be the last time.

Before going into the tent for the night, Sophia crawled over to Daryl and threw her arms around his shoulders.

"Thank you for bringing me," she said with a wide smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Daryl said, patting her back, pretending to be put out by it, but Sophia wasn't fooled and somehow, her smile seemed to grow even more. "Still believe in that Slender Man of yours?"

"Of course," Sophia shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"

Daryl's brow furrowed. "'cause he ain't real?"

"Just because we didn't see him tonight doesn't mean that he's not real," she said and then kissed his cheek quickly before leaning over and giving a hug to Beth now.

She then went into her tent and with Maggie and Glenn already in theirs, Beth and Daryl were the only ones were still outside. Beth laughed softly as Daryl continued frowning, not understanding. She moved into him and he spread his legs so she could come and sit between them, settling her back against his chest.

"I don't understand kids," he muttered and she laughed at that.

"Don't you remember when you were that age?" She asked, turning her head so she could look to his face.

"Don't really want to remember," Daryl said before he could stop himself and Beth's smile slowly faded.

"I'm so stupid," she whispered to herself and Daryl lifted an arm, wrapping it around her shoulders and pulling her in tight.

"Nah, girl. You're the furthest from stupid that a person could be," he told her. "'s a question you'd ask anyone without thinkin' 'bout it. No big deal."

"Isn't it?" She asked, still looking up at his face; her smile still gone.

"Nah. It ain't," he said and assured her with a squeeze of his arm. He then kissed the corner of her jaw and smiled a little when she shivered and pushed herself more against him. "You think we can do this again sometime?" He asked in a lower voice.

"Of course," Beth answered without hesitation and her smile returned; softer this time and she tilted her face up, brushing her nose along the line of his jaw. "Maybe just the two of us next time. When we can be completely alone," she suggested.

"What are you gonna do if it's just the two of us, alone?" Daryl wondered and even now, after everything that had already happened between them, he still felt himself blush a little at her words. "Kill me with no witnesses 'round?"

"Of course not," Beth said with a smile. "When a boyfriend or husband turns up murdered, they _always_ look to the girlfriend or wife first. We're the most obvious suspect. And the perfect murder is actually quite rare." He smirked a little at that and dipped his head down, pressing his face to the side of her throat and inhaling her scent; the damn sweetest thing he had ever smelled. "One of the main reasons a person gets away with murder-" she continued and Daryl's lips curved into a smirk against her skin. "-is because the prosecutor doesn't have enough evidence that is strong enough beyond a reasonable doubt to prove their case."

"'s that right?" Daryl asked, his nose now brushing the shell of her ear.

A soft hum rose from the back of her throat. "Mmmm-hmm. Many times, the DA, the police, everyone knows who did it, but they can't do a thing about it. Sometimes, unfortunately, the bad people win."

"That fuckin' sucks," Daryl lifted his head to speak. "That happen a lot?"

He asked the question, but he already knew the answer.

"I could lie to you," Beth smiled and he found himself smirking a little again. Beth turned her head and smiled a little, looking into his eyes. "I actually can't lie to you," she whispered and Daryl lifted a hand, curving it around the back of her neck.

She closed her eyes as he rested his forehead to hers. He didn't close his eyes though. He looked at her face. He never told her, but he actually did this a lot. Just look at her when she didn't know he was. He didn't know if it would freak her out of not, but freaking her out was always the last thing he wanted to do. He couldn't ever seem to get himself to stop though.

He would come back upstairs after having worked his shift downstairs in the bar and sometimes, she would still be up, researching, but other times, she would already be in bed, fast asleep. Daryl would be as quiet as he could be – which was practically silent – and he left himself in his boxers or changed into a pair of sweatpants and slipped beneath the comforter next to her. He liked to watch her as she slept. Daryl was pretty sure that no one could be as close to perfect as Beth was. Even as she slept, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

And that was why he liked just looking at her. To go through his entire life with nothing, but shit surrounding him to now having this girl sleeping in his bed, having this girl being so close to him all of the time, Daryl didn't know if he would ever get used to it. A part of him hoped he didn't get used to it.

Prison was never quiet. Not even during the nights. Guys always making noise – shouting out to the guy in the cell next to them or to no one at all – and even though his cell mate had been an alright guy, Daryl still, for two years, slept at night with his shoulders always tense; always ready to go in case he was ever jumped. He had slept like that when he was a kid, too; always ready for Will Dixon to come home, drunk, and take out his endless anger on Daryl.

He felt like he had gone his entire life without ever being able to relax. Even in the years he had followed Merle around, Daryl had slept with a tense body; never being comfortable in any of the houses of Merle's buddies.

But now, sleeping next to Beth every night, and out here, having her in his arms, surrounding him with her warmth and her sweet scent, Daryl relaxed. He woke up each new day, for the first time in his life, without knots in his shoulders and he was still getting used to that, too.

Beth liked to tell him that he always kept her safe – made her _feel_ safe – and Daryl wished he was the kind of person who was able to tell her that that was exactly what she did for him, too, without tripping over his own tongue.

Beth's eyes fluttered open to look into his once more and she gave him the softest smile that punched him low right in the gut. "I love you," she whispered to him.

And Daryl didn't think. What the hell was there to think about?

"I love you, too," he whispered back and he expected the words to feel wrong and foreign in his mouth since he had never said anything like that to anyone in his life.

Instead, saying those words to Beth was the easiest thing he had ever done.

…

The Pine Cone was steady. Not too busy. Not too slow. Daryl preferred when it was steady. It was easy for him to keep up while able to keep his breathing normal. Winter break had started at the college, but it seemed like there were still plenty of locals to keep the bar's drawers filled before the kids all came back. Daryl was enjoying the break from awful karaoke songs and the nights the bar did have karaoke, there wasn't a single Britney Spears song to be sung.

Beth was sitting on her usual stool, eating the Beth sandwich, drinking a Shirley Temple and there were papers in front of her, a highlighter in her hand. There had just been a couple of books written about the Atlanta Ripper and Beth was excited to add her name to it. She had explained that when the murders happened, few people had, at first, cared since the victims had been African-American.

Beth was determined to make the victims – and their lives – known.

They would be taking a trip to Atlanta after Christmas. He assumed it would be the first of many, but he didn't mind. Although he knew it would probably be alright, he had asked Shane about it nonetheless. His parole officer had listened to what Daryl had said and then with a smile, he gave a nod.

"Have fun. But don't think I won't be collectin' your piss when you get back," Shane said and Daryl had smirked a little, but he couldn't wait for the two years to be up. Shane was good for a parole officer – as good as one could be – but that didn't mean that Daryl wasn't counting down the days until he could stop reporting to him.

"You good?" Daryl came up to Beth to take her empty plate away.

"As gold," she smiled at him and he smiled a little, too.

"Want anything else from the kitchen?" Daryl asked.

"Yes!" She exclaimed a little too enthusiastically. "Earlier, I smelled Carol baking cookies. Are there any left?"

"Damn drunks have eaten all the peanut butter ones. I'll see if there's any of the oatmeal ones left," Daryl said.

"You're the best," Beth smiled at him.

"'cause I keep you fed."

"Yep," she said with a laugh and Daryl smirked a little as he turned, his eyes scanning the bar, making sure no one needed a drink, before he went to poke his head into the kitchen.

When he came back with the two last oatmeal raisin cookies on a plate for Beth, he saw that her laptop was open in front of her and whatever she was reading, it was making her eyes slightly wide.

"Here you go," he said, setting the plate down next to her papers. "Everythin' alrigh'?" He then asked.

"Look," was all she said before turning the laptop towards Daryl so he could see.

He saw that it was an email from her former coworker, Zach, and it was short, cutting right to the chase.

 _Statesman Blake dropped his case against Lilly Chambler after certain things came to light. Said he has more important things to worry about anyway. Good job on the notes. See you for lunch on Tuesday._

Beth had taken a bite of her cookie and Daryl looked at her. She put a hand over her mouth as she chewed and he saw her smiling with her eyes.

He lifted an eyebrow. "What'd you put in your notes?" He asked.

Beth swallowed and Daryl mixed her up another Shirley Temple. "I noticed it when I was talking with Lilly and her sister at their kitchen table. Lilly has these scars around her wrists. It's been years and they were definitely faded, but I saw them almost right away. I asked her if I could take a picture of them and I stapled it to my notes. They were scars a person got from being tied up with ropes; scars a person got from being tied up too tight with ropes and who was _really_ trying to get out. Sex between two consensual people who tie each other up don't have scars like that."

Daryl looked at her for a moment. "You're amazin'," he then said and eve though he already knew that, he still said it as if maybe it was just now occurring to her.

Beth blushed under the low lights of the bar and shrugged. "Sometimes, good people win, too," she said and she said it, staring right at him.

Daryl leaned over the bar then and he pressed his lips to her forehead because it was the only thing he could think of doing in that second.

He never considered himself a good person, but right then, with Beth – pretty and good Beth – smiling up at him and only him, he knew that she was right.

Right then, he felt like he had definitely – finally – won at something in life.

…

 **The End.**

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and please take a moment to review one last time!**


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